


airplanes

by thepsychicclam



Series: domestic series [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets offered a research opportunity that requires him to travel for weeks at a time. To say that they're not dealing with it very well may be a huge understatement. But Derek's trying to be a supportive husband while keeping his two kids from driving him insane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	airplanes

**Author's Note:**

> This is set the early autumn after ladybugs (which ends in May).

“I’m gonna miss you,” Derek says, stopping the car in the drop off lane in front of the San Francisco airport. He turns to Stiles, trying not to let his emotions play on his face. They’ve been married too long for Stiles to be fooled.

“I’ll be back later this week.” Stiles smiles reassuringly, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. Derek knows this is just as hard on him. 

“North Dakota is just so far away.”

“I know.” Stiles sighs and Derek kicks himself mentally. He’s supposed to be supportive, not selfish. Stiles’ whole demeanor has changed in a few seconds, so Derek reaches over and grabs his hand.

“Hey,” Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand. “I’m proud of you. My important scientist.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile around his lips now. “Hardly an important scientist. They just had no one better to give this project to.”

They exit the car and walk around to the trunk. Derek lifts out Stiles’ small suitcase and sets it on the asphalt beside him.

“Don’t look at me like that, Derek,” Stiles says when Derek just stands there, and his eyes start to water. 

Derek pulls Stiles into his arms and holds him tightly, pressing his face against Stiles’ neck. He inhales Stiles’ scent, then exhales slowly in an attempt to have his own scent permeate Stiles’ skin. “You’re gonna be great.” Derek pulls back and smiles. Stiles looks two seconds away from calling the whole thing off, so Derek knows he has to pull it together. This is a huge opportunity and means a lot to Stiles. “I’ve never been to North Dakota. You’re getting to travel and see the country.”

Stiles gives him a crooked grin; he knows exactly what Derek is trying to do, but at least it’s having the desired effect. 

“Give me a kiss before we stand here all day.” Stiles leans in and Derek kisses him, gently at first, but then it turns into something more desperate. It’s so stupid, he knows, but in ten years of marriage, the longest they’ve been apart is a couple of nights. And that was in the same state – not halfway across the country.

“I love you,” Derek murmurs when he pulls back. 

“I love you, too.” Stiles kisses him again before stepping out of Derek’s arms. He grabs the handle of his suitcase a little too tightly. “Give the kids extra love for me.”

“I will.” Derek smiles as Stiles slowly inches towards the door. “Be careful.”

“Always.” Stiles gives him a final wave and smile before disappearing through the automatic doors. 

Derek feels like half his soul has been ripped from him, but he gets in the car and drives away from the curb. He’s got an hour and a half drive back to Beacon Hills to miss Stiles before he has to be strong for Patrick and Evie.

Derek turns the radio up loud, glad there’s no one around to see an almost forty year old Alpha werewolf crying because his husband’s going out of town for a week.

*

“When is DD coming home?” Evie asks as they walk into the kitchen. She’s carrying one of the take out bags, and Patrick’s carrying the other. He let the kids choose what they wanted for dinner since they were already missing Stiles, and they chose sandwiches from their favorite place in town. 

“Sunday,” Derek replies as he opens the refrigerator, getting out a juice box for them both. He puts one back when Patrick tells him he wants water instead. 

“Today is…” Evie scrunches her face as she tries to remember.

“Wednesday,” Patrick tells her.

“Wednesday, Thursday,” she counts on her fingers, “Friday, Saturday, Sunday. That’s five whole days.”

“More like four because today is almost over,” Derek points out as he unpacks their food. He distributes the sandwiches, and then follows the kids into the living room where they all pile onto the couch and watch TV while they eat. Patrick and Evie crawl on either side of Derek, like two small bookends pressed against his side. It helps take some of the emptiness away.

Because the house is empty without Stiles. Even though he works late sometimes, or he’s out in his lab, Derek knows that at any moment, he will come bursting through the door with his loud energy, twigs in his hair, dirt smeared on his cheek, and smelling of the forest and damp earth. It’s hard not to look at the door every few minutes, hard not to check his phone for another text. 

When Stiles had told Derek about the research opportunity, Derek had been ecstatic. Stiles had been chosen alongside another botanist from UCLA to head a yearlong research project. He would be traveling around California and the rest of the US to gather samples and do research on various plant species. Derek didn’t understand the specifics, but it was a huge honor. Not to mention all expenses were paid and it came with a nice stipend.

The reality of Stiles going away for days and weeks at a time had been lost on Derek then. It hadn’t sounded like much – what’s a week, really? But he dropped Stiles off at the airport less than twelve hours ago, and he feels miserable. His wolf is whining and clawing, so he just ignores it and focuses on the kids.

But they aren’t that much better.

“Can I call DD?” Evie asks halfway through her sandwich. “He likes ham sandwiches, and I got a ham sandwich.”

“Yeah, can we call DD?” Patrick asks excitedly. “I can tell him about the A on my social studies test, and I want to ask him if he’s read the book I got from the library.”

Derek sighs and sits his half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. The sandwich is too big, anyway. He usually splits one with Stiles, and it feels wrong to eat the whole thing himself. He shifts around as he reaches into his jeans for his cell phone.

“Yayes!” Evie claps. “Let me call him!”

“I want to call him!” They both start lunging for the phone, and Derek lifts his hand just as two heads collide with a knock. Evie starts crying, and Patrick growls.

“Seriously?” Derek looks at them both. “If you fight, we don’t call DD.” Evie looks on the verge of a full sob fest, and Patrick doesn’t look much better. “We’ll call DD together - _if_ you can behave yourselves.”

“I’ll be very very good, Daddy.” Evie folds her hands in her lap and looks at the phone, though she’s vibrating with pent up energy. Patrick’s picking at a loose string on the hem of his pants.

Derek hits the speed dial for Stiles and then puts it on speaker. Both kids are bouncing as they listen to the hollow sound of the ring tone. 

“Why isn’t he answering?” Patrick asks. 

“He probably can’t find his phone,” Derek laughs.

“DD always loses his phone,” Evie says.

“Hey babe,” Stiles answers. “I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.”

“DD!” Evie and Patrick exclaim at one time.

Stiles laughs on the other end. “Hello! How are you?”

Evie and Patrick start talking at once, so Derek has to coordinate them. Patrick starts, which causes Evie to pout, but Derek wraps an arm around her and tugs her closer as Patrick talks to Stiles.

“Evie, how was your day?” Stiles asks after Patrick’s finished.

“I got a ham sandwich!”

“You did? That sounds yummy.”

“It is yummy! Do you want me to save you some?” she asks.

“I think you better eat it all. It might get icky by the time I’m back.”

“Cause you come back on Sunday. That’s what Daddy said.”

“Yes, I come back on Sunday.”

“Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Five whole days.”

“More like four,” Patrick echoes Derek. “Because today is almost over.”

“Yep. It’s even two hours later here.”

“It’s after 8?” Patrick asks.

Evie’s mouth drops open, and she looks up at Derek. “DD has a different time?”

“He can time travel!” Patrick exclaims. “Did you time travel, DD?”

Stiles chuckles on the other end of the line. “Kinda, I guess. The country has different time zones. You should look it up, Patrick. You can teach your sister.”

“Cool!”

“You can tell me all about them tomorrow.”

“I will!”

“What are you three doing tonight?” Stiles asks. “Did Dad take you out for sammiches?”

“I got to choose,” Patrick says. “Dad said we could eat whatever we wanted, and so I got to pick!”

“I helped!” Evie exclaims. “What did you eat tonight?”

“The scientist I’m working with, Dr. Higgins, wanted to go to a steak house, so I ate steak. Made me think of you three.”

“Was it raw?” Evie asks. Derek laughs and ruffles her curls. She has more of a taste for the raw game they catch out hunting with the Pack than Patrick does.

“Nope. That’s icky,” Stiles teases.

“DD likes his steaks well done,” Patrick says. “Cause he doesn’t like blood.”

“That’s exactly right,” Stiles says. “They had elk and buffalo on this menu, too.”

Evie turns to Derek. “Can we go hunt a elk?”

“Sure,” Derek says. “What about a buffalo? Wanna go catch a buffalo?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Evie turns to the phone. “DD, what’s a bubbalo?”

“That’s what you get to look up. Patrick looks up time zones, you look up buffalo.”

“Can I call you tomorrow and tell you about bubbalos?” Evie asks excitedly.

“Of course!”

“Hey, kiddos,” Derek says, “why don’t you say good night to DD? We need to finish eating dinner. Then we’ll watch a little bit of TV before bed.”

Both kids are visibly disappointed, but say goodnight to Stiles anyway. Derek orders them to finish what they want of dinner while he takes Stiles off speaker.

“How’s the hotel room?” Derek asks.

“Wish you were here,” Stiles replies. “There’s a bear skin rug and a fire place.”

“Don’t tell me these things.” Derek smiles, images flooding his brain.

“I’ll take a picture for you.”

“You better.”

“Wanna call me after you put the kids to bed?” Stiles asks.

“Will you be up?” 

“I’ll wait up for you.”

“I love you,” Derek says. Both the kids yell they love Stiles, and Stiles laughs.

“Tell them I love them, too. And I love you.”

Derek ends the call, and doesn’t really feel like eating the rest of his dinner. At least the kids go to bed with no problem.

*

Derek startles awake when the bed moves. He blinks as his eyes adjust to the darkness. “What’s wrong?” he asks, voice husky with sleep, as Evie and Patrick crawl onto the bed.

“Woke up,” Patrick says. “Evie had a nightmare.”

Derek props himself up on his elbow as Evie shimmies between the sheets on his right, Patrick on her other side. On Stiles’ side of the bed. 

“What was the nightmare?”

“Don’t remember,” she mumbles into her stuffed ladybug. Derek hears the lie, but doesn’t press it. Evie snuggles up against Derek’s side, and Patrick burrows his face into Stiles’ pillow. “Can we sleep with you?”

Like Derek could say no. Patrick’s already almost asleep, and Evie’s eyes are closed. “Of course, pumpkin.” He kisses her head and resituates himself. The bed doesn’t feel so empty now.

*

They make it to Sunday without too much trouble. All three of them were sad, but they were okay. Evie and Patrick slept with Derek every night Stiles was away, and Derek can’t say he minded too much. Helped him keep his mind off Stiles being gone.

Patrick and Evie go with him to San Francisco to pick up Stiles. “Do you think DD will look different?” Evie asks.

“No, dummy. He’s only been gone four days,” Patrick retorts.

“I’m not a dummy, doofus!” 

“Stop calling each other names,” Derek says as he glances in the rearview mirror, where both kids are shoving each other. “And stop shoving each other, or I’m going to turn this car around, and you’ll have to wait with Pop-pop while I go pick up DD.”

“But…” Evie looks at him, scandalized. “I want to see DD!”

“Then be nicer to your brother.”

“Even if he’s a doody-head?”

“Patrick’s not a doody-head.”

“He is.”

“Evie…” Derek says in warning.

“Fine.” She turns and whispers to Patrick, “You’re a doody-head.” Derek sighs. Evie then turns her attention to the item sitting on the floorboard between them in a plastic bag. “Do you think DD will like his plant?”

“He’s gotta love it,” Patrick exclaims. “It’s awesome. He doesn’t have one in his greenhouse, I don’t think.”

“DD has lots of plants,” Evie says. “I can’t keep up.”

“Me either,” Derek agrees. He turns the radio on as they drive down the interstate, and the kids sing along with the familiar songs. Derek’s trying to be calm, but the closer they get to the airport, the more excited he gets. It’s been a long five days.

“Can I go on a plane one day?” Patrick asks. “My teacher said that there are less plane crashes than car accidents.”

“How do they fly? Is it magic, like what Mr. Deaton does?”

“It’s not magic,” Derek says.

“Yeah, it’s science. I read a book about it.” Patrick starts rambling about plane facts, and Evie keeps insisting that it’s magic as Derek takes the exits leading to the airport. 

“Look! A plane!” Evie’s straining against her car seat as she looks out the window.

“They’re loud!” Patrick puts his hands over his ears as a plane takes off. “Dad, I don’t like the sound!”

“Work on blocking it out,” Derek instructs. “Focus on what’s in the car, not what’s out there.”

“You can do it, Patrick!” Evie claps.

When Derek pulls the car to a stop in the arrivals lane, he sees that Stiles texted him ten minutes ago saying that the plane had landed. He comes out of the airport a few minutes later, grinning widely, looking tired and disheveled.

“DD!” Evie screams, which causes Patrick to clamp his hands back over his ears. Stiles frowns as he approaches the car and bends down to peer into the backseat where Evie is bouncing in her car seat, eyes glowing yellow, and Patrick’s bent in half, hands over his ears.

“Derek, what’s wrong with him?” Stiles asks as Derek takes his suitcase and places it in the trunk.

“Planes are too loud,” Derek explains, “and Evie started screaming when she saw you.”

Stiles straightens up and turns to Derek, and Derek feels like his whole world is settling back in place. He talked to Stiles every day on the phone, multiple times, and texted all day. But nothing is like seeing him standing in front of him in the flesh. Derek grabs him and pulls him close. Stiles holds him just as tight, his lips dropping kisses across Derek’s cheek until he reaches his mouth.

“God, I missed you,” Stiles mumbles through the kisses. 

“You smell,” Derek jokes, and Stiles laughs. 

“Stale airplane air, I’m sure that smells great.” Stiles kisses him again before climbing into the car. He leans into the backseat to kiss Evie and Patrick before buckling up.

“DD, you’re really here!” Evie kicks her legs, making contact with the back of Derek’s seat each time. 

“I missed you, DD,” Patrick says. Stiles twists around in his seat and touches both of them. They growl happily.

“I got you both a present,” Stiles says. 

“A present?” Patrick perks up as Evie claps again. 

Stiles pulls two identical stuffed elk from a plastic bag between his feet. “Hope you like them,” he says, handing them to the kids.

“I love it!” Evie snuggles it happily. “What is it?”

Stiles laughs. “It’s an elk, from North Dakota. I bought them in one of the state park gift shops where I gathered some plants.”

“It’s cool, DD,” Patrick says. He starts reading the small tag attached. “Hey, it’s got elk facts! Did you know that…” Patrick starts reading the facts to them, and Stiles glances over as he reaches across the console to grab Derek’s hand. Derek lifts their entwined hands to his lips and kisses the back of Stiles’.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Derek whispers as Patrick rambles about elk.

“Me, too.” Stiles sighs and closes his eyes. 

“Are you tired, DD?” Evie asks. “Do you need a nap?”

“Yes, I need a long nap.”

“It takes a long time to drive home,” Evie says matter-of-factly. “We have been driving for two days!”

“Two days?” Stiles asks, turning back to look at her. He reaches out and tickles her leg. “That’s a long time to drive.”

“Daddy is a slow driver,” she states. 

“Hey!” 

“I bet time traveling was hard,” Patrick says. “I think the internet lies about time zones.”

“You think it’s more believable that I time traveled?” Stiles asks.

Patrick nods. “In a plane, instead of a TARDIS.”

“Of course.”

“DD, we gotted you a present!” Evie yells suddenly. She tries to reach for it, but can’t quite reach it. “Patrick, give DD his pressie!”

“Here DD.”

“Why did you get me a present?” Stiles asks as he takes the plastic bag. “Did you do this?” he asks Derek.

“It’s all your kids.”

Stiles absolutely lights up. “You guys did this?” Carefully, he reaches into the plastic bag and removes the small plant. “You got me a plant!”

“I picked it out,” Evie says. “But it was Patrick’s idea.”

“It’s great.” He holds it between the seats so the kids can see it. “Do you know what it is?”

“It’s a eyeball Susie,” Evie says.

“She means black-eyed Susan,” Patrick corrects with a roll of his eyes. 

“That’s what I said, doody-head!”

“Evie,” Stiles says, and she murmurs a soft, “sorry.”

“You’re both correct. It’s a black-eyed Susan,” Stiles says. “Do you know its scientific name?” The kids shake their head. “ _Rudbeckia_.” Patrick repeats it over and over again, committing it to memory.

“You don’t have those in your greenhouse, do you?” Evie asks.

“Nope. I don’t have any of these.”

“Didn’t think so,” Patrick says. “That’s why we picked them out.”

“It’s perfect.” Stiles blows them both kisses, and then leans over to peck Derek on the cheek. “Thanks.”

*

The kids are glued to Stiles’ side the entire evening. They talk to him constantly, telling him every minute detail of the past few days. He doesn’t mind; he missed his kids and he missed Derek. There were multiple times during the last few days, when he was alone in his hotel room, when he was flipping through the channels and wishing more than anything that he was home, that he almost called the whole thing off. He didn’t realize being away from his family would be so hard, but it’s turned out to be one of the hardest things he’s ever endured.

Stiles tucks both of the kids in bed, Patrick curling up with his elk and telling Stiles about the new book he was reading. Then, Stiles lays on the bed beside Evie, because she won’t let him go without reading a story first. She falls asleep on his chest, elk clutched in her arms.

Stiles finds Derek waiting for him in their bedroom after he leaves Evie’s room.

“Hi stranger,” Stiles says as he closes the door behind him. “Kids are asleep.”

“That’s a great thing,” Derek grins from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed in his underwear. Stiles steps between his legs and runs his fingers through Derek’s hair. He closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling of the soft strands beneath his fingers. “You wore them out tonight.”

“It was them,” Stiles laughs as Derek slides his hands underneath Stiles’ shirt. “They were wide open.”

“They missed you,” Derek murmurs against Stiles’ belly where he’s licking and nipping the skin.

“I don’t think they’re the only one.”

“Definitely not,” Derek says as he looks up at Stiles. His eyes are wide and filled with lust and love. It makes Stiles’ heart break just a little; he has to leave again in a week and be gone longer this time. But he pushes those thoughts out of his head. He’s home now, and right now all that matters is Derek.

He loses himself to Derek’s mouth and hands, stretching back on the bed as Derek covers him with his scent. Stiles hums contently as Derek drags his nose and lips against his skin, pressing kisses against sensitive places and dragging his teeth along his limbs.

“I forgot how used to your hands I was,” Stiles mumbles as Derek palms him through his briefs. “Jerking myself off was not nearly as fun.”

Derek growls against Stiles’ neck, nipping and licking a bruise into his skin. “As soon as you leave is the moment I want you to fuck me into the mattress,” Derek says. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you pushing me over every object I passed and pounding into me.”

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles hooks a leg around Derek’s waist and rolls them so Derek’s on his back. “I think I can make that happen.” Derek grins as his hands slide up the back of Stiles’ thighs, cupping his ass as they grind together, tongues sliding together sloppily.

“Dad?” they hear Patrick say as a knock sounds on the door. “DD?” Derek’s hands tighten on Stiles’ thighs as Stiles jerks up and twists towards the door, which begins to open. Patrick and Evie stick their head inside before Stiles can roll off Derek. The kids look at them, then take a step inside the room. “What are you doing?”

“They’re kissing, dummy,” Evie says. “Like in the movies.”

“Oh.” Patrick looks at them thoughtfully. “Can we sleep in here?”

Stiles turns back to Derek and drops his head to his shoulder, laughing. He’s still straddling Derek, but his erection is long gone, and well, at least they’re wearing clothes. A few minutes later, and the kids might have walked on a very different scene.

“What’s funny, DD?” Evie asks, already climbing onto the bed. “Did you tell a joke?”

“It’s nothing,” Stiles says, rolling off Derek. He glances at Derek’s crotch, also thankfully flat. Nothing kills the mood quicker than your two kids walking into the room. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping in your own room?” Derek asks as he walks towards the bathroom, grabbing his pajama pants on the way.

“Evie woke up,” Patrick says with a yawn. “And I missed DD.”

“I’m right here, kiddo,” Stiles says, slinging an arm around Patrick’s shoulders and pulling him close. “I’ll be here in the morning, too.”

“Can we still sleep with you?” he asks. He’s so much like Derek in times like this, so sensitive despite his normal spastic-Stiles nature, that Stiles just wants to cuddle him forever. Derek doesn’t like it when Stiles points out how he can be oversensitive, but Stiles kinda loves that about Derek. He loves that he’s probably the only person in the world who knows just how much of a softie Derek is. Patrick got that from him.

“Of course.” Stiles glances behind him where Evie has already burrowed herself between the covers. “Comfortable?”

“Very.” She smiles widely.

“Get up there with your sister,” Stiles says, patting Patrick’s leg lightly. The kids start giggling and talking, and Stiles joins Derek in the bathroom, kicking it shut behind him. He walks over to the toilet to take a piss. “Well, there goes our night.”

Derek shrugs. He tries to talk around the mouthful of toothbrush, spits, then says, “Not the first time they’ve interrupted us.” 

“I swear I locked the door.” Stiles sighs as he tucks himself back into his underwear and flushes the toilet. He steps beside Derek and washes his hands before grabbing his own toothbrush. “I think you distracted me.”

Derek grins, his mouth full of white toothpaste. It starts dripping over his lips onto his chin. “It’s been known to happen,” he says after he spits.

Stiles grabs Derek before he opens the door and wraps his arms around his waist. “Good thing is, I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

“That is a very good thing.” Derek kisses him, and Stiles’ body starts to respond, so he pushes away. 

“I’m gonna fuck you over every surface in this house tomorrow,” Stiles whispers.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Derek grins, then kisses him again. 

When they exit the bathroom, the kids are curled up in the middle of the bed, giggling. “What were you two whispering about?” Patrick asks.

“Adult stuff,” Derek responds as he gets into bed. He kisses them both before reaching over and turning off the light.

“Can we watch TV while we go to sleep?” Evie asks.

“Sure,” Stiles says. He flips it to a random syndicated sitcom and settles on his side of the bed. Derek lays his arm across both kids, resting his hand on Stiles’ hip. Stiles catches Derek’s eyes over the kids’ heads, and he smiles. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I love you both!” Evie says.

“Me, too!”

“And we love you both,” Derek replies. Derek and Stiles kiss them both at the same time. Patrick snuggles up against Stiles, and Evie crawls halfway on top of Derek as she gets comfortable.

Stiles is absolutely glad to be home.

*

Stiles jerks awake when something knocks him the face. 

“You’re awake!” Evie screeches from where she’s perched on Stiles’ torso, and it’s way too early for Evie’s loud voice. He doesn’t care how much he loves his daughter. He grunts and reaches beside him to grab Derek’s pillow and places it over his face.

“Is DD up?” Patrick asks from beside the bed. 

“No,” is Stiles’ muffled reply.

“Evie!” Derek exclaims as he rushes into the room. “I told you to let DD sleep.”

“But he needs to fix my hair.”

“I told you I was going to do it. I even got the brush and barrettes!” Stiles moves the pillow so he can peek from beneath it. Derek’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, all messy hair and wrinkled Henley and yesterday’s jeans, holding sparkly barrettes and a Barbie brush. He looks frustrated as he glares at Evie.

“Your braids suck,” she informs Derek and turns back to Stiles. “You’re up.”

“Hard not to be with you sitting on my stomach and screaming in my ear,” Stiles drawls as he tosses Derek’s pillow across the bed.

“Do you want breakfast?” Patrick asks. “Dad made us cereal. I can make you cereal.”

“Just coffee.” Stiles yawns as he rubs his eyes. 

Evie scrunches her nose. “Ick. Morning breath.”

Stiles sticks his tongue out at her. He asks Derek, “Did you make their lunches?” 

“No, Stiles,” Derek snaps. “I’m going to let them go to school without lunch.”

“It was just a question,” Stiles snaps right back. Seriously too early for this.

“I’m not incompetent.” 

“That’s not - _great_.” Derek has spun around on his heel and stormed down the stairs. Stiles closes his eyes. Maybe he can just go back to sleep and start this day over again.

That’s obviously not going to happen. Mainly because Evie starts poking his cheek. “I know you’re awake.”

“Thanks to you.” Stiles opens one eye, and she’s smiling down at him. He pokes her in the side, right where he knows she’s ticklish, and she jerks and starts laughing. 

“Daddy said to let you sleep because you have been working hard. Patrick said it’s because you time travel.” Evie reaches behind her, twisting her whole body around so that Stiles narrowly avoids getting bowed in the face with her knee. “Can you braid my hair?” She drops a blue satin bag and a brush on Stiles’ chest. “You do better braids than Daddy.”

“Of course. Turn around so I can brush your hair.” Stiles pushes himself into a sitting position as Evie rolls around on the bed to get situated, already wrinkling her clothes before she even leaves for school. “Did Dad let you pick out your clothes?” Stiles asks as he takes her dark curls into his hands and starts gently brushing them. 

“Yep. He said he wants me to have my own mind. Patrick told him everyone has their own mind, otherwise they’d be dead. He said a mind is called a brain and it’s in your skull.”

Stiles glances down at her mismatched outfit as she rambles. She’s wearing tights with pink hearts on them, a blue tutu, and a short sleeved orange shirt with a whale on it. Her shoes are the ones that flash pink when she walks. It’s definitely a statement, and totally Evie.

Stiles stumbles downstairs five minutes later, in one of Derek’s t-shirts he grabbed instead of his own from the drawer. Evie’s prancing around like a princess, her braid swinging behind her. 

“Don’t I look pretty, Daddy?” She runs up to Derek and turns in a circle, her shoes causing dancing pink lights to flash across the kitchen.

“Beautiful.”

“DD makes the best braids.” She climbs onto the stool next to Patrick, who pours her milk into her cereal for her.

“I poured your coffee,” Patrick tells him. “I put your sugar and cream in it, too. Just like you like it.”

“Thanks, kiddo.” Stiles drags his fingers across the back of Patrick’s neck as he picks up the coffee and takes a sip. It’s lukewarm with too much sugar, but he swallows it and smiles. Patrick just beams.

Derek’s at the sink, rinsing out the blender he used to make his morning smoothie. Stiles comes up behind him, slides his arms around Derek’s waist, and drags his lips against the side of his neck. “You’re not incompetent,” he whispers. Derek just grunts. “Don’t be like that.”

“How do you think they get fed when you’re not here?” Derek asks, and although it shouldn’t hurt, it does. Stiles drops his arms and takes a step back. Derek turns and looks at him, his face warring between apologetic and irritated. 

“I…” Stiles wants to say that it’s his job to fix the kids’ lunches, that he’s the one who’s made sure they’ve had apples and juice boxes and the right kind of sandwich in the correct lunch box for the past few years. Instead he says, “Thank you.”

Derek looks like he’s going to say something, but he gives Stiles a clipped nod instead. Stiles takes another sip of his oversugared coffee. At least he got to braid Evie’s hair.

When the kids run upstairs to grab their book bags, Derek tugs Stiles into his arms. “I can’t stand you feeling like this,” he murmurs against Stiles’ neck, then makes a whine similar to the one he makes as a wolf. “Not when I haven’t seen you in a week.” He pulls back and looks at Stiles seriously. “It’s an equal thing, this parenting thing. Just because I made their lunches doesn’t mean anything.”

“I know.” Stiles feels a little silly, but it doesn’t ease the knot in his chest. He hates that he has missed any of their school mornings, even if waking up with a screeching werecub on his chest isn’t his ideal way of waking. 

“I take up the slack when you can’t, and you take up the slack when I can’t,” Derek says. “Partners, me and you. We’re in this together.”

Stiles buries his face against Derek’s shoulder. “I just missed you all,” he whispers. Derek kisses his hair.

Patrick trips coming down the steps and scrapes his chin, which heals before they even leave the house. After they all pile into the SUV, Stiles drives them to the elementary school.

“Can I bring an elk to show and tell?” Evie asks.

“I think that’d be a good idea,” Derek replies.

“Really? Can I go with DD to North Dodo and hunt an elk? Do you think I could chase down an elk?”

“What are you talking about?” Derek asks.

“She means a real elk, Dad, duh,” Patrick says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I can go hunting while DD looks for plants!”

“You can’t take an elk to show and tell,” Stiles says.

“Why?”

“Because it’s an elk.”

“It’ll be dead.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But I wanna go with DD and hunt an elk!” Stiles recognizes the beginnings of an Evie tantrum, so he tries to change the subject.

“What are you two going to do in school today?”

“Spelling test,” Patrick groans. 

“Are you not ready?” Stiles asks. Patrick doesn’t respond, so Stiles looks at Derek.

“He made a 70 last week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs. “It didn’t seem important.”

“That our son made a 70? I could have helped him.”

“On the phone?”

“Well…yeah. You can practice spelling over the phone,” Stiles argues. 

“We worked on it after dinner last week.”

“I’m nervous.”

“You’ll do fine,” Stiles says. “I have confidence in you.”

“Thanks.”

“Can you come to school with me, DD?” Evie asks.

“No, stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid, doody-head!”

“Children, what have I said about calling each other names?” Derek says, voice stern.

“Patrick started it.”

“Patrick, apologize to your sister,” Stiles says. Patrick mumbles his apology and then Evie does the same.

“But DD, I want you to come to school with me. I miss you.”

“I’ll be here when you get back, pumpkin.”

“I don’t believe you!” Evie shouts all of a sudden, crossing her arms over her chest and sniffling. “You are gonna time travel and play with elk in North Dodo without us.”

“North Dakota,” Patrick corrects.

“That’s what I said!”

“Hey,” Stiles says as they turn onto the street with the elementary school. “I’m not leaving.” The car is silent except for Evie’s sniffles as they pull into the parking lot. Stiles has decided he’s had a shitty morning. He hates how a five year-old can make him feel so guilty and bad about himself. He had only been gone for a few days! He doesn’t understand why this is so difficult on her.

Derek rubs Stiles’ arm, and Stiles glances at him. Derek gives him a reassuring smile. 

Stiles rolls to a stop in the car pool lane. Patrick hugs Derek around the headrest as Stiles gets out of the car to help Evie from her booster seat. She gives Stiles a hug, then joins Patrick on the other side of the car as they start walking towards the front door. Just as Stiles is getting back into the car, Evie turns around and runs back to the car and around the front. Concerned, Stiles gets out of the car again just as Evie collides with him. She wraps her arms around his waist with so much werewolf strength that Stiles can barely breathe. 

“Do you promise you’ll come pick me up?”

“Listen to my heart,” Stiles says. “I promise.” Evie rubs her face against Stiles’ stomach as she growls quietly. A few cars behind them start honking their horns. “Hey, I think you’ve scent marked me enough, pumpkin.” She drops her head back and looks up at him, round eyes glowing gold.

Suddenly, her head jerks towards the car, and Stiles sees Derek pointing to his eyes. She nods, and slowly, her eyes return to their normal amber color.

“Go inside before you’re late,” Stiles says as he leans down and kisses her cheek. She runs back to join Patrick as Stiles gets into the SUV again. Patrick takes her hand, and Stiles slowly rolls away as he and Derek watch until they enter the school.

Stiles is lost in thought as he turns away from the elementary school to watch where he’s going, so he’s surprised when Derek reaches over and cups Stiles’ cock. “What are you doing?” Stiles squeaks. 

“You know what I’m doing.” Derek quirks an eyebrow as he starts lightly stroking Stiles’ cock through his jeans. 

“We’re still in the carpool line - _of an elementary school parking lot_!” Stiles looks around, hoping no one can see inside where Derek has rubbed him to half-hardness already. He’s glad they drove the SUV instead of the Toyota or Camaro today. He waves to a mother he knows from Patrick’s class, just as Derek grinds the heel of his hand against him.

“You need to relax,” Derek says.

“Um, you’re pseudo-jacking me off in an elementary school parking lot.”

“I am not jacking you off.”

“Semantics!” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure this is illegal.”

“We’re married. We’re consenting adults.” Derek squeezes Stiles’ length through his jeans. “Relax, Stiles.” Stiles turns onto the main road, and Derek thumbs his jeans open and lowers the zipper. “See? I waited until we left the school before I started unfastening your clothes.”

“Are you going to blow me on our way home?” Stiles asks, unable to keep the grin from his face. Derek responds by pulling Stiles’ cock out of his jeans. 

“Don’t crash the car,” Derek says before swallowing Stiles down.

Stiles has a bad attention span on a good day. But trying to focus on driving and on Derek’s mouth? He is actually surprised he doesn’t crash the car. Thankfully, there are only three red lights between the school and the road they take home.

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal,” Stiles says after a few minutes. Derek just hums, the vibrations running through his cock causing Stiles to step on the accelerator. “There has to be a Do Not Blow and Drive law.” Derek responds by swirling his tongue around the head of Stiles’ cock. “I wonder if my dad ever pulled someone over for getting a blowjob while driving. Oh god, what if Parrish pulls us over?”

Derek pulls off with a pop. “Can we not talk about your dad while your cock is my mouth? Please?” His grumpy expression would be more effective if he didn’t have reddened lips and a mixture of spit and precome sliding from the corners. “Or Parrish, for that matter.”

“Fine.” Derek slides his lips back over Stiles’ shaft. “Though, I distinctly remember that you didn’t mind talking about Parrish that one time while we fucked. What was the fantasy? Parrish sandwich? Or was it you – ow! Hey, watch the teeth asshole.” Stiles glances down to see Derek smirking around his cock. 

“I told you never to speak of that,” Derek says as he pulls off quickly. 

Stiles laughs. “You couldn’t look at Parrish for like two months afterwards. That was hilarious.” Derek does a move with his tongue as he grips Stiles’ cock in his fist, and all thoughts of Parrish, his dad, and anything else go out of his brain. “Fuck.”

Stiles drives ten miles under the speed limit as Derek works his mouth over him, his foot pressing on the accelerator every time he gets close to coming. He has never been so happy to live out in the middle of nowhere. When he comes, he lets his foot off the accelerator, because otherwise he might end up crashing into a tree. 

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles breathes as Derek swallows. Derek cleans Stiles’ cock with his tongue, licking the small bits of come still clinging to his skin. Stiles’ entire body feels heavy as he places his foot back on the gas pedal, and he just wants to go to sleep right there.

Derek sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so smug.” Derek just smirks. “I’m the one who got off. I should look smug.”

“I like getting you off.”

“This is one of the many reasons why we are perfect for one another,” Stiles grins.

When they get home, Stiles has just shut the door and is hanging his keys on the hook when Derek crowds him against the door. “No kids,” Derek whispers against the back of his neck.

“Do you have plans, Mr. Stilinski-Hale?” Stiles asks. 

“A few.”

Stiles turns around, and Derek picks him up into a fireman’s hold. “What are you doing?” Stiles exclaims, but he’s laughing as Derek carries him through the house. Stiles doesn’t mind; he’s got a great view of Derek’s ass in his tight jeans. He slaps Derek’s ass a few times, then starts massaging the cheeks. “That’s a nice ass you have there.”

“You’re gonna like it even more when you’ve got your tongue shoved in it.” Derek sets Stiles on his feet in the living room. 

“I couldn’t have asked for a nicer ass to shove my tongue into.” Stiles shoots Derek a crooked grin, and Derek rolls his eyes. 

“You’re dumb,” Derek says.

“You sound like the kids.”

“No kid talk,” Derek says, pulling Stiles to him and grabbing his ass. “Just sex talk.”

Stiles hums as he trails his fingers along Derek’s biceps. “So, what do you want to do? I’ve already gotten off – quite spectacularly, might I add – so how would you like to get off?” He grabs the erection tenting Derek’s jeans.

“Fuck me.” Derek’s eyes are dark and lust-filled, and Stiles feels a thrill run through him. 

“I can do that.”

They strip quick and without grace, wasting no time on kissing or foreplay. Derek finds one of their many bottles of lube stashed in the drawer of the side table, and Stiles bends him over the back of the couch as he rims him. Usually Stiles likes to lick Derek until he’s loose and then tongue fuck him into orgasm, but not today. Today, Stiles wants to fuck Derek sooner than later, so he gets impatient after a few minutes.

When Stiles has worked Derek open with three fingers, he covers his cock in lube and presses in slowly. “Fuck yes,” Derek murmurs into the couch cushions. Stiles grips Derek’s hips as he shifts his weight, knees between Derek’s on the couch. 

“Don’t come on the couch,” Stiles says as he thrusts in again.

“You say the sexiest things,” Derek jokes, so Stiles adjusts his hips and slams in at just the right angle to make Derek moan. “I know not to come on the couch, Stiles.”

Stiles folds himself over Derek and peppers kisses across Derek’s back until Derek turns around so they can kiss. It’s mostly tongue, but feels perfect as Derek contracts tightly around his shaft. 

When Derek gets close, Stiles sits on the couch with Derek in his lap. It takes every bit of willpower Stiles possesses not to come from the sight of Derek riding him, his hips rolling, eyes closed and mouth parted. After a decade together, Derek is still the sexiest thing Stiles has ever seen. Especially when he’s riding Stiles’ cock like his life depends on it.

“Fuck,” Stiles moans, and Derek’s eyes flick open. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Derek shakes his head and leans close, hovers just above Stiles’ mouth. “You.”

Stiles attacks his mouth as his fingers dig into Derek’s thighs. When Derek finds the perfect spot, he barely moves, just makes small rolls of his hips. Stiles wants to reach between them to grab Derek’s cock, but they’re pressed too close together as they kiss, and he’s afraid if he moves he’ll shift Derek, and he can tell Derek is _so close_ , so instead he scratches his nails along Derek’s damp back. He feels Derek contract around him just before he moans into his mouth, warmth spilling between them.

Derek shudders and breathes into Stiles’ mouth as he rides out his orgasm, his movements uneven and jerky. He places both his hands on Stiles’ chest and pushes himself up, rocking his hips and staring down at Stiles with a satisfied expression until Stiles grips his hips tightly and starts fucking up into Derek, finally coming. 

They both collapse onto the couch then, Derek still in Stiles’ lap. He’s completely content, still buried deep inside Derek, and has no plans to move anytime soon. Derek starts placing soft kisses on Stiles’ shoulder, his neck, his ear. It’s comforting, feeling Derek around him as he kisses him.

“My leg has gone to sleep,” Derek says a little bit later. Stiles laughs as Derek slowly moves his legs to the floor and stands, Stiles’ now soft cock slipping out of him. Derek grabs one of their t-shirts on the floor and wipes himself down before leaning down to clean off Stiles. 

Stiles lays back on the couch and closes his eyes. He smiles as the couch dips, and they scoot around until they’re spooning with Derek stretched out behind him.

“Mmm,” Stiles hums contently. “I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

“Me, too.”

“Then I’m going to wake up and fuck you again.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Derek kisses the side of Stiles’ face as he grabs the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them, and Stiles snuggles deeper into Derek’s arms.

*

When Stiles wakes, he’s sweating. Mainly because he’s surrounded by 175 pounds of werewolf furnace. And a leaf blanket. He tries to roll onto his back, but Derek’s arms have him in a vice-like grip. And Derek hasn’t even stirred. Not that Stiles minds, really. Derek has had enough sleepless nights over the years. Stiles remembers when they first moved in together and how he’d wake in the middle of the night to find Derek reading or watching him. He’d spent too many nights being on guard, and he felt he had to protect Stiles from any hypothetical night invaders. It got better until Patrick was born – and well, nothing was good right after Patrick was born. Derek didn’t sleep then, either. Was too terrified to even take his eyes off Patrick, let alone sleep.

Over the years, Derek has gotten better. He sleeps deepest when it’s the two of them, because he’s not worried about the kids. But as the kids have grown out of their baby phases, Derek has started sleeping much sounder at night. But he’s still the first to wake at one of Evie’s nightmares or when one of the kids inevitably crawls into their beds. 

Stiles stares at the wall for a long time. He wonders how they’re going to make it through the next year. He’s been on one week-long trip, and Evie’s having issues, and Derek’s got in him a death grip. That’s not even addressing his own feelings, which are confused and muddled at best.

“What are you thinking about?” Derek’s gruff sleep-laden voice asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up.”

Derek pulls Stiles closer and somehow tightens his arms around Stiles’ body. Stiles can feel his half-hard cock resting against the top of his ass and his lower back. Derek kisses along Stiles’ shoulders as Stiles rubs his ass back against Derek.

“Ready for round two?” Stiles asks.

“Your sexy talk could use some improvement,” Derek murmurs against his neck.

“You’ve been telling me that for twelve years.” Stiles shimmies in Derek’s arms, rolling Derek onto his back in the process. Derek smiles up at him, and Stiles kisses him. “Not all of us can be a werewolf sex god.” Then, Stiles grabs Derek’s leg, hooks it around his waist and thrusts inside.

This time, it’s slow and lazy. Stiles kisses Derek deeply as he sets up a rhythm with languid thrusts. Derek feels so good around him that he never wants it to end, never wants to stop feeling the soft, warm press of his tongue, the familiar, strong grip of his hands.

Afterwards, they go to the bathroom to clean up and end up laughing and making out as Stiles fingers Derek lazily, fingers sliding easily through the come. 

They end up on the couch again, Stiles on his back with Derek between his legs, head resting on his chest. Derek closes his eyes as he listens to Stiles’ heartbeat, and after a few minutes, Stiles hears a quiet, pleased growl. He reaches out and runs his hands through Derek’s hair.

“Wolf happy?”

Derek responds with a louder growl. They lay in silence for about fifteen minutes, and then Derek says, “We should do this more often.”

“What? Fuck?”

“Well, yes,” Derek says, “But I actually meant spend all day, naked, fucking, and in each other’s arms.”

“Kinda difficult with jobs and two kids.”

“Impossible, you mean.”

Stiles nods, then laughs to himself quietly. “Remember when we first built this house? We spent a month doing nothing but fucking.”

“You wanted to christen every room in the house,” Derek replies with a smile.

“Um, that was you, dude. You said a wolf’s den needed to smell like him and his mate.”

“I did not say that.”

“You so fucking did,” Stiles laughs. “You were like, drunk on sex or going into heat or some weird werewolf ritual. But you said that.” Derek snorts, and Stiles pets his head. “It’s okay. I kinda like you when you’re like that. Plus, I did not mind helping you in that particular goal. Not at all.”

“I think you got turned on by living together.” Derek turns his head, rests his chin on Stiles’ chest, and looks at him. “Thinking about sharing a kitchen, a bathroom, cleaning and cooking together – it made you horny.”

“Still makes me horny,” Stiles says with a grin. “Having two children with you makes me horny. Seeing you help them with their homework, make them brush their teeth, pick them up from school. It all gets me hot.”

“Everything gets us hot,” Derek points out.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Stiles tugs Derek up to kiss him.

*

They make it off the couch when Stiles’ stomach starts growling loudly. All he’d had was a few sips of oversugared coffee; after all the energy they’d expended that morning, he needed some food.

They stand naked in the kitchen and eat sandwiches that Derek makes. Stiles chews his distractedly. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Derek asks.

Stiles swallows. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Stiles.”

Stiles sighs in frustration. “What am I supposed to say?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Can’t we just enjoy our day of uninterrupted fucking?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs. “We could. But I’m still worried about you.”

“It’s stupid,” Stiles mutters.

“Nothing you feel is stupid.”

“I hate that you don’t need me to make lunches in the morning,” Stiles states, looking square at Derek. They stare at each other for a few moments before Derek wraps Stiles in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” Stiles whispers.

“I hate that I have to make lunches in the morning,” Derek whispers against his hair. 

“I just feel unneeded. Like, I’m so glad you three can function without me, because there would be a problem if you couldn’t. But I still feel like I’m not needed.”

“You’re an idiot,” Derek says fondly. “Your kids slept in our bed every night because they missed you. Our daughter refused to let anyone but you braid her hair. You are definitely needed around here.”

“This sucks.” Derek doesn’t respond, and Stiles sighs. Derek holds him for awhile longer, until Stiles reaches between them and grabs Derek’s cock. 

Stiles fucks Derek against the counter, then drops to his knees and spreads Derek’s cheeks to lick the come oozing from his loose hole. He renders Derek into an incoherent mess with his tongue, and Stiles struts around the house until Derek picks him up over his shoulder, carries him to the shower, and face fucks the smug expression from his face.

All in all, it turned out to be the perfect day.

*

“You’re here!” Evie exclaims when she opens the SUV’s back door after school. She climbs into her booster seat as Patrick gets into the other side. 

“I promised I’d be here,” Stiles says. 

Evie squeezes between the seats so she can give Stiles a hug and a kiss. “You smell better.”

“Huh?” 

“You smell like you again.”

“Dad does, too,” Patrick points out as he starts idly flipping through a library book.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks. He looks at Derek in a panic. “What do they mean? Can they…?” Stiles stares in horror at his kids, then Derek. His cheeks start burning.

“They smell us,” Derek points out. 

“You smelled funny when you came back,” Evie says as she buckles herself in. “Now you smell like DD.”

“You mean we smell like…” Stiles asks, and Derek nods. “Oh god…”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Why are you freaking? My parents smelled like my parents. It’s natural.”

“This is one of the many times I am happy I am not a werewolf,” Stiles says as he drives away from the curb.

*

Stiles can’t seem to focus. He doesn’t like flying on a good day – too long in one place, the urge to talk and move around too strong, the confinement grating on his nerves. He wasn’t scared to fly; he just didn’t enjoy it.

Today, he’s miserable. The flight is only a few hours to Arizona, but he does not want to be on that plane flying to the desert. 

Stiles misses his kids. He misses Derek. He’s become one of those annoying parents who doesn’t like to be away from their kids for any reason, and an annoying husband who can’t live without his husband for more than a night. 

But there’s not much Stiles can do about it. He’s trying everything he can not to think about Derek and the kids, but he’s failing miserably. The paperback he grabbed off Derek’s bookshelf is doing nothing to distract him. He thinks about Evie crying this morning, basically throwing a tantrum and being a complete brat. She was still sniffling when they dropped her off at school. And Patrick, well, he hasn’t said much, but he’d taken his stuffed elk to school with him, and Stiles thinks it’s evidence that he’s like Derek, quiet and brooding instead of holding his heart on his sleeve like Stiles and Evie do. Derek had been supportive, like usual, but Stiles didn’t have to be a werewolf to know he was putting up a front.

A year. It hadn’t seemed like a long time before, but now it seems like forever. 

Stiles texts Derek as soon as he plane lands, and Derek sends him a selfie from his office in the house, where he’s working. Stiles sends him back an airport selfie.

**You look tired and sad,** Derek texts him.

**I am,** Stiles replies after he hails a taxi. He grips his phone in his hand as he looks outside the window. He’s never been to Arizona, and he thinks it’s beautiful. It’s hard to enjoy it, though. He wishes Derek was beside him enjoying it with him, ignoring Stiles as he rambles about deserts and mesas and random cactus facts.

**I love you,** Derek texts back. Stiles sometimes wonders how he got lucky; he couldn’t get through anything without Derek.

The hotel room is large and empty. He watches television and eats Chinese takeout he has delivered to the room. 

When he goes to bed, he wears one of Derek’s long-sleeved Henleys and a pair of pajama pants. Despite the warmth in the room, Stiles’ teeth chatter as he freezes. He’d forgotten what it had been like to sleep without being curled up beside a werewolf. Seems like it’s almost impossible.

Stiles puts on another shirt and makes a cocoon out of the blankets. He takes a picture of himself and texts Derek, **Look! Human burrito!**

What he wants to text is, _I can’t fall asleep without you. My body temperature has adjusted to yours._

Derek tells him to keep warm, and Stiles eventually falls asleep. He never warms up.

*

**What’s that website you use for kids’ crafts?**

**It’s in the bookmarks. Funkidscrafts.org or something? Idr.**

**I think I found it.**

**Are you doing crafts with the kids?**

**Trying to distract Evie. She’s driving me fucking insane.**

Derek tosses his phone aside as he scrolls through pages on the internet. The last few nights have been difficult, to say the least. Evie has not been taking Stiles being gone well at all. She’s been throwing tantrums and crying, which she hasn’t done like this since she was a toddler. Derek is at his wit’s end.

The sheriff picks them up after school. Derek had called him and asked if he could take them to the park or to get ice cream after school. He thought maybe spending some time with their grandfather would help. When the sheriff drops them off, he stays for dinner. 

“Hey kids, help us cook dinner,” the sheriff tells the kids when Derek starts removing the items from the pantry.

“Daddy says I can’t boil water because it burns even though I can heal,” Evie says as she climbs onto a stool.

“He’s right,” the sheriff says. “You don’t want to get hurt, even if you can heal. It still hurts really bad.”

“We had a fireman come talk to our class about burn safety last year,” Patrick says as he carries an armful of ingredients from the pantry for Derek. He’s set the stuffed elk on the edge of the counter, right where he’s standing. Patrick hasn’t let go of that thing since Stiles left. “We learned about fire.”

Derek frowns, still uncomfortable with any talk of fire. He’s pretty sure the sheriff knows that, because he steers the conversation to something else.

“Evie, do you want to tear these basil leaves into smaller pieces?” the sheriff asks, setting a stack of fresh basil in front of her. She eagerly starts ripping apart the leaves as Patrick carefully cuts tomatoes for the sauce. Derek watches him warily, Patrick’s clumsy knife cut from a few months ago still fresh in his memory. He figures eventually he has to let his kids grow up, but he still doesn’t like the combination of clumsy Patrick with sharp objects. He has never gotten comfortable with the idea of Stiles using sharp objects, and he’s a grown man.

“It smells so good!” Evie exclaims, sniffing her fingers. She holds her hands out. “Smell, Daddy! It smells good!” Derek leans down and sniffs her fingers.

“Yummy. Makes me hungry.” He opens his mouth and nips at her fingers. She starts squealing as she yanks them away. Derek laughs.

“You can’t eat my fingers!”

“Why not?” Derek asks with a smile. “You’ve seasoned them right up for me.”

“That’d make you a cannibal,” Patrick says. 

“What’s a cannimal?” Evie asks.

“A cannibal is a person who eats another person,” he explains.

“Ew!!!!” Evie yells. “That’s gross!”

“And illegal,” the sheriff says. 

“Have you ever arrested a cannibal?” Patrick asks.

“Not that I know of,” the sheriff says. 

“Can we talk about something else?” Derek asks. “Perhaps save cannibalism for after dinner?”

Patrick laughs. “Dad, you’re usually not weird about this kind of stuff. DD is the one who gets squeamish.”

“I miss DD,” Evie says, dropping her chin to her arms with a huff. “Why isn’t he home yet?”

“He’s only been gone two days, Evie,” Patrick rolls his eyes. “He’s going to be gone eight days.”

“Eight days is forever,” Evie says. “I can’t wait eight days. In eight days, I will be like a billion years old! And DD will be like a billion and five.”

“That’s pretty old,” Derek says. “How old will Pop-pop and I be?”

She scrunches her face. “You will be a billion and six, cause you are older than DD. And Pop-pop will be a billion billion, because you’re really old.”

The sheriff shoots her a sarcastic frown. “Thanks, kiddo. Way to make your grandpa feel good.”

“It’s okay to be old,” she says. “Trees are old and I like trees.”

“Great, I’m a tree.”

“Galapagos turtles are really old,” Patrick says as he adds tomatoes to the pan Derek’s making the sauce in. “They live for hundreds of years. Dad let me watch a special on Animal Planet about it the other night.”

Derek ruffles his hair. “And Dad sat there and went to sleep,” Derek says. 

“Dad doesn’t like the science shows,” Patrick says, “He likes the history ones.”

“And Princess Sophia!” Evie exclaims.

“Yes, and Princess Sophia,” Derek says. Actually he hates Princess Sophia, but he isn’t about to tell his daughter that. 

“I’ll watch a science show with you after dinner,” the sheriff says. Patrick grins widely.

“I want to watch!” Evie says.

“After homework and baths,” Derek says. 

“Daddy’s no fun,” Evie whispers loudly to the sheriff. Derek sticks his tongue out at her.

Derek takes a picture of the sheriff cooking the pasta with Patrick beside him and Evie on her knees on a stool. He sends the picture to Stiles, then posts it on Facebook.

After dinner, Patrick helps the sheriff load the dishwasher while Derek helps Evie get ready for her bath. 

“Can I bring mermaid Barbie to the bath with me?” Evie asks. Derek nods and she runs down the hall to her bedroom. Derek starts her water and holds his hand under the faucet to get it to the right temperature. He stands as she runs back clutching three dolls.

“Now, what did we talk about bath times are for?” Derek asks Evie as he sets her towel on the closed toilet lid.

“Cleaning.”

“Right, and where do you need to clean?” Derek asks, looking down at her. She’s not looking at him because she’s too busy playing with her dolls.

“My whole body!”

“More specific.”

“I have to clean between my toes and behind my ears,” Evie says. “So I won’t be smelly.”

“Right.” He ruffles her hair. “I’ll be downstairs with Pop-pop, and Patrick’s in his room if you need anything.”

Evie walks around behind Derek and places her palms on Derek’s butt and pushes. “Go away, Daddy. I can take a bath. I’m not a baby.” Derek chuckles and lets her push him from the room. Evie shuts the door behind him.

While she’s in the bath, Derek gets Patrick settled at his desk working on his homework. Then, he goes downstairs to finish helping the sheriff clean the kitchen.

“Thanks for coming over tonight,” Derek says. “I really appreciate it.”

“You know I never mind helping out,” the sheriff says as he wipes down the stove. 

Derek sits at the small breakfast nook, his shoulders sagging. He’s drained and worn out, and Stiles has only been gone for two days. A hand lands on his shoulder, the sheriff squeezing it comfortingly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Derek says. “No. I don’t know.” The sheriff takes the chair across from Derek. “It’s difficult doing this without Stiles. Without him being here. On a base level, it’s hard because the Alpha’s husband is out of the territory, which makes me uneasy. It’s hard to quell any of the anxiety and discomfort when he’s not around.” The sheriff nods, and Derek runs a hand over his face. “The kids feel it, too. Their dad not being here, and they pick up on my anxiety, no matter how much I try to hide it.”

“So, that’s the wolf level,” the sheriff says. “What about the human level. What do _you_ feel, Derek?”

“Miserable.” He gives the sheriff a sardonic smile. “I miss Stiles.”

The sheriff places his hand on Derek’s forearm. Derek feels a sense of calm fall over him. He’s not sure if it’s because he smells a lot like Stiles, or because the sheriff gives him the fatherly support he desperately needs in moments like these.

“Have you talked to Stiles about this?” the sheriff asks.

“How can I? This opportunity is so important to him. I can’t be selfish.”

The sheriff sighs and sits back in his chair. “I don’t know what to tell you, son. Maybe you and the kids will get used to it. And it’s only for a year.”

“I guess.”

They’ve moved into the living room when they hear growling from upstairs, then a blur running through the living room. Derek’s eyes bleed red, and he sees that it’s Evie, wolfed out, and completely naked. 

“What are you doing?” Derek exclaims as he leaps off the couch and intercepts her as she starts for the doorway between the kitchen and living room. 

Evie quickly darts to the left, heading for the dining room. Her hair is soaking wet and hanging down her back, dripping a thick trail of water behind her. Derek runs after her, wondering when the hell she got so fast. 

“Evangeline!” Derek yells. He hears the sheriff’s laughter behind him, and footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Patrick asks. “Why is Evie naked?”

Evie opens the back door and runs out into the yard. Derek partially shifts and takes off after her, finally catching up to her near the tree line. He scoops her into his arms, and she turns her face to the sky and howls. 

Derek thinks, _oh, what the hell?_ and howls with her. They hear an accompanying howl from the porch, and Derek turns to see Patrick standing on the porch, shifted and howling, eyes bright gold.

Evie howls a couple more times, nips at Derek’s face a few times, then hides her face in Derek’s neck. 

“Pumpkin, what’s gotten into you?” he asks as he carries her back towards the house.

“I’m a wolfie,” she mumbles, her face smushed against his skin.

“Yes, you’re a wolf. But that doesn’t mean you get to run around naked after bath time,” Derek says, kicking the front door closed with his foot. “Now you have to wash off the dirt!”

“Wolfies don’t need baths,” she says.

“Little werecubs do, though,” Derek says, wiggling her dirty toes. 

“Can I run around naked on the full moon?” Evie asks.

“We’ll see,” Derek says as he sets her on her feet in the bathroom. “Now, wash off, and make sure to clean the dirt off your feet. Then put on your pajamas and come downstairs.”

When Derek gets downstairs, he drops onto the couch and closes his eyes. “Sorry about that,” Derek tells the sheriff.

“Please. Stiles used to run around all the time naked. He hated wearing clothes.”

“He still does,” Derek says, opening one eye and smirking. The sheriff just laughs and shakes his head.

*

The sheriff helps Derek put the kids to bed and leaves at almost 10. Derek drops onto the couch, wishing he could go upstairs and spread out on his bed, but there are two cubs sleeping in it, probably hogging all the covers. He stretches out on the couch and closes his eyes.

His phone rings a few minutes later, and he answers it without looking at the ID. “What?”

“Night that bad, huh?” Stiles asks. Derek feels immediately better at the sound of his voice.

“Your daughter – yes, _your_ daughter and not my daughter – ran through the house naked tonight. Howling and wolfed out.”

“That’d make her your daughter then,” Stiles points out. “I don’t have a little furry condition.” Derek chuckles. “My dad texted me and told me. Seems like I missed quite a night.”

“Our daughter is insane,” Derek says. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” Stiles says. “Or Skype.”

“How was your day?” Derek asks.

“Oh, you know, plants and more plants. And then there were plants.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

“You sound thrilling,” Stiles says. 

“Mmm.” Derek shifts on the couch and hones his hearing towards the upstairs. The kids are still sound asleep. “It’s late, I’m finally alone, and I have a sexy man on the phone,” he says as he palms himself through his jeans.

“And you’re naked,” Stiles says.

“Not yet.”

“Don’t care, pretend. You’re naked in my mind. Completely and graphically naked.”

Derek chuckles and unbuttons his fly. “How am I graphically naked?”

“Oh, you know,” Stiles says, “I can see every detail on your body, every hair, every vein, everything. I’ve had it memorized for quite some time.”

“Phone sex or Skype sex?” Derek asks.

“Skype,” Stiles says. “Give me a minute.” He disconnects the call, so Derek sets his phone aside and grabs his laptop from the table. While it’s loading, he strips and then settles on the couch. 

Stiles’ call pops up a few moments later. Derek accepts it, and Stiles’ wonderful face is on the screen. He looks tired, but he’s there.

“You look tired,” Derek says.

“Been having trouble sleeping,” Stiles replies. Derek frowns. “Oh no, get worried brow off your face. We are not gonna talk about me, unless it’s about my dick in your mouth.”

“Fine,” Derek says, though he’s not happy about it. “We will discuss this later.”

“Okay, whatever, but now, I wanna see your dick,” Stiles says. He raises his eyebrows and nods for emphasizes. “Put it out there, Stilinski-Hale.”

“So bossy,” Derek mumbles. He just stares at the screen, though, without moving.

“Oh god,” Stiles says, leaning towards the screen like that would give him a better vantage. “Are you _blushing_?” He laughs giddily. “Oh my god, you are totally blushing!”

“I’m not,” Derek denies, though his face is burning. He scratches his beard lightly.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Stiles asks. “It’s not like this our first time. I once fell asleep with my face pressed against your balls. Seeing them on screen is kind of pedestrian after that.”

“I’ve never Skype sexed before,” Derek says. 

“I’ll pop your cherry, baby.” 

Derek groans. “I’m disconnecting this call right now.” Stiles just laughs on the other end. “What do I do?”

“You know what to do,” Stiles says. “Stroke your cock, finger your ass, rub your balls – I really don’t care. Ooh, yes I do. Go get a vibrator.”

“The kids are upstairs!” Derek hisses as he glances at the ceiling like the kids can see him. “What if they wake up?”

“That’s where that supersonic hearing comes in handy,” Stiles says. “There’s a vibrator in your office. We left in there a few months ago, remember? Mmm, that was a good day.”

“I’ll be right back,” Derek grumbles. He feels awkward walking around the house naked and half-hard with the kids asleep upstairs. He pauses and focuses on their breathing; both kids are sound asleep. They usually sleep pretty soundly when they’re in Derek and Stiles’ bed, and unless Evie has a nightmare, they’ll more than likely stay asleep until the morning.

Derek finds the sex toy stashed in one of the top drawers in the filing cabinet in his office. He knows they washed it when they finished using it, but he washes it again and then finds a bottle of lube. When he returns to the computer, Stiles is lazily jacking himself off.

“God, I wish I was with you,” Derek says. 

“I would much rather have your hand around me,” Stiles says. “I’ve watched so much porn the last few weeks that I’m pretty sure my eyeballs are gonna explode.”

Derek holds up the long, thin blue vibrator. It was actually Stiles’, one he preferred to use either by himself or to get Derek to use on him when he wanted Derek to tease him or blow him at the same time. Derek doesn’t like to use sex toys on himself as often as Stiles likes them used on him, but that’s because Stiles just likes things up his ass. Derek loves putting that blue vibrator up his ass. It works out rather well for both of them.

“Mmm,” Stiles says. “I can’t wait to watch you fuck yourself with that.”

Derek feels himself blush again, but he adjusts the laptop screen and his feet until Stiles has a view of his cock, balls, and ass. “You can’t see my face.”

“It’s okay, I’ll fall asleep with your face on screen. Right now, I’m enjoying the view.”

“This is really weird.”

“Don’t care.”

Derek turns the vibrator on and presses it against the underside of his cock. He takes a breath and starts to relax as he enjoys the sensation. Stiles is on screen, biting his lip as he tugs on his cock. It’s weird watching Stiles on screen and not being able to touch him. They’ve jacked off together before, but they were side by side, able to touch and kiss and be near each other. He wouldn’t tell Stiles, but this makes Derek miss Stiles more than he has since he left.

But Derek clears his mind of those thoughts. He’s got a sexy man jacking off for him; there is really no reason to be sad.

“Should we be talking?” Derek asks as he lowers the vibrator to his balls. He moans and slides the vibrator against his sac slowly.

“You always say my dirty talk sucks.”

“It does.”

“You’re not much better,” Stiles points out.

“Then no talking,” Derek says.

“Good plan. Just moaning.” 

Derek chuckles as he moves the vibrator lower, against his perineum. He’s fully hard now, and he wraps the fingers of his other hand around his shaft as he teases his entrance.

“Yes,” Stiles says. “You look so hot.”

“You mean my ass looks hot,” Derek jokes.

“See? This is why we don’t dirty talk,” Stiles laughs. “But yes, your ass looks hot. Wish I was licking it.”

“Yes, I would give anything if you were licking my ass right now.” Derek thinks about the feeling of Stiles’ tongue against his rim, gently pushing against it, loosening him before pushing his tongue inside slightly. “Fuck.”

“Thinking about me rimming you, aren’t you?” Stiles smirks.

“Yep.” Derek opens the bottle of lube and squirts some onto his palm. He slicks up the vibrator and then presses it against his hole, feeling the vibrations against him. He exhales heavily, trying not to moan too loudly with the kids upstairs. 

Stiles’ eyes are glued to the screen, and he leans closer to get a better look as Derek pushes the vibrator slowly inside. “Fuck,” he moans. He hears Stiles moan over the computer speakers. The vibrator is thin enough that it barely burns as it stretches. Derek slides it in as far as it will go, then back out, adopting a slow rhythm as he fucks himself.

“I wish you could see yourself,” Stiles says. “I am married to the best porn in the world.”

“Thanks,” Derek says, blushing again. 

They don’t talk much for the next few minutes. Derek can hear Stiles breathing heavy, his hand going slower on purpose so he doesn’t come too soon. Derek’s trying to extend it, too, draw it out instead of getting off quick like he does when he’s rubbing one out in the shower or while the kids are at school. 

But fucking himself with the vibrator as he watches Stiles jerk off is quickly bringing him to the edge. “I’m getting close,” he says.

“Come for me, Derek,” Stiles says, and it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Stiles’ voice is breathy and hoarse, and sometimes it surprises Derek that he ended up married to that sexy man. Derek squeezes his hand tighter around his cock and angles the vibrator just right and comes over his hand. “Yes, so hot,” Stiles says, and Derek glances at the screen just in time to see Stiles shoot come onto his lower abs.

“That was kinda awesome,” Stiles says as Derek takes the vibrator out and turns it off. “You were so fucking hot. I’ve gotta use vibrators on you more often. Shove a big fat dildo up your ass as you suck me off.”

“Where was this talk while we were getting off?” Derek laughs.

“Shut up, I was distracted.”

Derek laughs and stands up. “I’m gonna go clean up. I’ll be back in a minute.”

After Derek washes and puts away the vibrator, he puts his underwear and pajama pants back on and settles on the couch. Stiles is still lying naked on the bed, but he moves the laptop onto his chest so the only thing Derek can see is his shoulders and face.

“I miss you,” Derek says. “I miss you a lot.”

“I know,” Stiles says frowning. “I miss you, too. Tell me about your day. Tell me about Evie.”

“Ugh, Evie,” Derek sighs, dragging a hand over his face. He pulls the coffee table closer to the couch and then stretches out on his side. They talk for about an hour, and then they both try to fall asleep while watching the same television program. It makes Derek ache, but he focuses on Stiles’ breathing and it helps ease some of the pain despite the fact that they’re not in the same room. He eventually falls asleep.

*

Derek wakes up later and can’t move. He has a moment of panic before he opens his eyes and realizes why he can’t move. He’s covered in werecubs. 

Patrick has wedged himself between the back of the couch and thrown his leg and arm across Derek’s torso, his face buried in Derek’s armpit. He’s trapped the stuffed elk between his arm and Derek’s chest. Evie is sprawled out over Derek’s legs, her feet resting on his stomach. 

Carefully, Derek grabs his cell phone from the table. It takes him a few tries, but he finally gets a decent picture of Evie and then one of Patrick. He texts them to Stiles, grabs the blanket off the back of the couch, and covers them up. He wraps his arm around Patrick’s frame, and he snuffles in his sleep as he shifts around. 

Derek closes his eyes and wonders how exhausted he must be if he didn’t wake up when the kids crawled onto the couch with him in the middle of the night. It’s hard doing both his and Stiles’ roles while trying to stay strong for the kids and keep up with his work. And all the while, there’s a crippling hole in his chest.

He pushes all that from his mind and falls back asleep.

*

“Stop fighting!” Derek yells into the living room where he can hear Patrick and Evie arguing and growling. “I better not come in there to find blood on anything or torn clothes!”

“Yes, Dad!” they reply in unison.

Derek’s not sure how he does it. One minute, the chicken is fine in the pan, the next the pan is burning and smoking and he’s ruined the chicken. It’s the second time he’s burnt chicken in the last week. He stands between the kids, frowning at it.

“Now what?” Patrick asks. “I don’t want another hamburger.”

“We can go eat rabbits in the woods!” Evie suggests.

“Ew, no. Gross.”

“You’re gross.”

“Your butt is gross.”

“CHILDREN!” Derek yells, rubbing his eyes. He can’t feed them take out _again_ ; they’ve eaten it way too many times in the last few weeks. Defeated, he pulls out his cell phone and dials Melissa.

“Hey, Derek,” she answers.

“I need your help,” he starts. “I burnt dinner again.” He hears her stifle a laugh and glowers at the wall. 

“I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Derek cleans up the burnt chicken while Patrick opens the door to air out the smell while they wait on Melissa to arrive. She and the sheriff walk into the kitchen not long afterwards.

“Pop-pop!” Evie yells running to him and wrapping her arms around his legs. Patrick engulfs Melissa into a bear hug.

“Bless your heart,” Melissa says, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Stiles said you weren’t a bad cook.”

“Apparently, I’m a bad everything,” Derek grumbles. Melissa tuts and kisses his cheek, then slaps him on the back of the head. He looks at her, scandalized.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help me get dinner going.”

Between the five of them, they make a quick dinner of chicken, carrots, and kale to eat, and then they help Melissa make dinners they can heat up for the rest of the time Stiles is gone.

*

Derek sits in the elementary school parking lot for fifteen minutes before he finally gets out of the Camaro. He’s never gone to a teacher-parent without Stiles. He knew it was bound to happen eventually; they both had jobs and responsibilities and one of them was bound to miss one sooner or later. It was just yet another reason to make Derek miss Stiles, to make him feel alone.

Derek finds Patrick’s classroom easily. Evie had gone home with Allison and her kids, so Derek didn’t have to deal with her while trying to focus on Patrick. He hoped some time with her Pack would make her feel better. Every day, Evie gets a little worse. The upcoming full moon isn’t helping, he knows.

“Mr. Stilinski-Hale,” Ms. Kim says when Derek enters the room. She shakes his hand across her desk as he takes the seat across from her. “When’s your husband arriving? We can wait to get started until after he gets here.”

“He’s not coming,” Derek says, and he feels a twisting in his gut. “He’s out of town doing research.”

“Has he been doing this often?” Ms. Kim asks.

“This is the second time. The first time was for about a week, and this time it’s almost two weeks.”

Ms. Kim nods and makes a note on her notepad. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“What?” Derek asks. “Has Patrick been acting out in class?”

“Oh, no!” Ms. Kim says. “Patrick always behaves in class. He’s a wonderful boy. But I’ve noticed that he’s seemed a little more…introverted than normal?” Derek inwardly sighs. Here they go again. 

“He’s shy,” Derek replies defensively. “He has plenty of friends, lots of cousins. He comes from a big family.”

“Josh Lahey and Ryan McCall, right?” Ms. Kim asks. Derek nods. “They’re both in different classes, but the three of them always play together during recess. Lately, though, Patrick’s been spending more time by himself.” 

Derek frowns. “He’s not doing well with his dad being away.”

Ms. Kim gives Derek a sympathetic smile. “Academically, Patrick is doing well. A’s in everything, except spelling. But he has improved with the last few quizzes.”

“Good,” Derek says. 

“He’s been having some trouble with a few of his classmates,” Ms. Kim says, and Derek steels himself. He takes a deep breath and starts anchoring himself. _Stiles, Patrick, Evie. Family, Pack. The McCalls, the Laheys, the Sheriff, Melissa, Chris. Family. Pack. Stiles…_ It’s too close to the full moon and his nerves are already so raw that he’s liable to wolf out without realizing it.

“What kind of trouble?” Derek grits out.

“A few of the bigger boys have been picking on Patrick. Calling him names, that kind of thing. We disciplined the boys, but they keep picking on him. Yesterday, there was a small altercation on the playground.”

“What?” Derek exclaims. “Why wasn’t I notified?”

“Patrick did nothing wrong. Two of the boys stole his stuffed bear – “

“Elk,” Derek corrects. Ms. Kim looks at him in confusion. “It’s a stuffed elk.”

“Ah, yes. The boys stole Patrick’s stuffed elk and then started pushing him around. Another teacher and I were going to break it up when Patrick yelled. Then, the boys threw the, um, elk on the ground and ran away. We called their parents and took disciplinary action.”

Derek runs a hand over his face. _Stiles, Patrick, Evie. Family, Pack._ He wanted to cry and rip those kids apart with his teeth. God, he wished Stiles was here right now.

“Mr. Stilinski-Hale?” Ms. Kim asks. “Are you okay?”

Derek looks up at her and gives her a clipped nod. “Patrick has gotten picked on ever since he started school. It’s never easy to hear it has happened again,” he says.

“Patrick’s a sweet, kind kid,” she says. “You and your husband are obviously doing a good job with him. I’ll make sure to keep an extra eye on him now that I know his father is travelling a lot.”

“Thank you,” Derek says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Derek tries to pay attention through the rest of the meeting, but it’s just grades and upcoming events and programs that Derek just doesn’t care about right now. 

He’s still thinking about Patrick being pushed around, being called names, his favorite possession being tossed into the dirt.

The moment he leaves the classroom, he feels his eyes dampen. Fuck, he needs some air and to collect himself before he picks Patrick up from the afterschool program three halls over. 

He exits the school and sits on a bench as he dials Stiles with shaky hands. Stiles answers after the fourth ring. “Hey. Everything okay?”

“Patrick’s being bullied,” he says as he hastily wipes his eyes. 

“What?” Stiles exclaims. “Hold on.” Derek hears him tell someone he would be taking a small break. A few moments later, he hears the phone rustle, and Stiles says, “What’s going on, Derek?”

“I had a parent-teacher conference with Patrick’s teacher today. She said he’s being bullied. Yesterday, a couple kids stole his elk and – “

“Wait, they stole the elk?” Stiles asks in confusion.

“Yeah, the one you gave him. He takes it to school every day.” Derek shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. They took it and were pushing him.”

“Is he okay?” Stiles asks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t picked him up yet. I’m too upset.”

Stiles sighs. “Fuck. I wish I was there.”

“Me, too,” Derek says quietly. “I’ve got to figure out what to say to him.”

“Tell him you love him,” Stiles says. “That’s all the matters. Then call me, and I’ll tell him I love him. No, Skype me on your phone. I want to see his face.”

Derek’s hands are still shaking, but he can’t stall any longer. “I gotta go get him. I’ll call you later.”

“Hey, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Derek disconnects the call, takes a few deep breaths, and tries to adopt a calm, nonchalant exterior. He used to be so good at hiding his emotions; what happened to him?

In the afterschool program classroom, Patrick’s sitting at a table all alone, coloring. Derek swallows down his wave of emotion, but Patrick glances at him at the same time, so he’s not sure he’s hidden it well.

Derek waves at the afterschool teacher while Patrick gathers his stuff. As they walk towards the car, Derek glances at the elk and notices dirt in its light brown fur.

When they get into the car, Derek doesn’t turn it on. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened yesterday?” Patrick looks at his knees and shrugs. “Patrick…”

“I was going to,” Patrick finally says, “But then you had to deal with Evie’s tantrums.” Derek sighs. Evie had been particularly out of control last night. She had cried for almost two hours, until she finally exhausted herself and fell asleep on Derek’s chest.

“Hey,” Derek says, reaching out and rubbing his hand over Patrick’s head. Patrick pushes into the touch. “You are just as important as your sister. Whenever anything happens, no matter how big or small, no matter what else that I’m dealing with, I want you to always tell me. You’re important, Patrick. Everything about you is important.”

Patrick nods, and Derek squeezes his neck.

Derek’s phone chimes then, and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a Skype call from Stiles. He accepts it, and Stiles’ worried face comes on the screen. “I couldn’t wait,” Stiles says. “I needed to see Patrick. Where is he? Patrick?”

“I’m right here, DD,” Patrick says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, kiddo,” Stiles says with a grin. “Did your dad tell you that I love you?”

“Not yet,” Derek says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s only been like 2 minutes.”

“Seven,” Stiles corrects. “Hey, Patrick. I love you.”

“I love you, too, DD.”

“Don’t let those bullies get you down. You’re awesome. I got bullied all the time, and look how awesome I am now.” Patrick rolls his eyes, but he laughs. “Beside, you’re so much better because – “

“Because I’m a werewolf and my dad’s the Alpha, and my grandfather used to be the sheriff,” Patrick says. “I know this.”

“I just want to remind you.” Derek squeezes the back of Patrick’s neck. Stiles says, “Tell us about yesterday.”

Patrick finally looks at Derek, and Derek can smell the fear and nervousness in the air. “What happened, Patrick?” Derek asks, brows furrowed in concern.

“I think I did wrong yesterday,” Patrick says.

“How so?” Stiles asks from the phone.

Patrick turns back to the phone and clutches his elk tightly. “Gavin and Henry took my elk at recess yesterday,” he starts. “And they kept throwing it around when I tried to get it back. They called me a big baby and a dork and lots of other names.”

“Then what happened?” Derek prompts gently.

“I yelled at them to give me back my elk.”

Derek knows where this is going, so he says, “It’s okay, Patrick. Whatever happened, it’s okay.”

“Did you wolf out?” Stiles asks gently.

Patrick drops his head and starts crying.

“Oh god, are you crying? Derek, is he crying?” 

Derek leans over the console and wraps his arms around Patrick’s small frame. “Hey, Patrick, it’s okay. I promise.” Derek glances at the screen over Patrick’s head, and Stiles looks about how he feels.

“Please don’t be mad,” Patrick says, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his arm. Derek glances down, and yep, that’s snot on his leather jacket. Great. “When I yelled, my eyes turned yellow and I flashed my fangs. It was really quick though. As soon as they saw it, they ran.”

“That’s good,” Stiles says. “They probably won’t believe what they saw.”

Patrick turns to Derek and looks up at him with sad, disappointed eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dad. Please don’t hate me.”

“Hey,” Derek says, resting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “There is nothing in the world you could do that would make me hate you.”

“But you told us to be so careful. They just wouldn’t leave me alone and I just wanted my elk and I miss DD and – “

Derek glances over at the screen, and Stiles looks like his world just crumbled around him. _Fuck_. 

“We all have slip ups,” Derek says. “Your sister had a slip up a few months ago at preschool, remember?”

“She scratched the little boy,” Stiles adds. “We still love her.”

“But I’m the oldest,” Patrick says. “I’m gonna be Alpha one day.”

Derek smiles at him and then kisses him on the forehead. “Not for a very, very, _very_ long time.” 

“Let me see the elk,” Stiles says. Patrick holds it up and Derek angles the phone so he can get a better look. “He looks okay.”

“I named him Roberto,” Patrick tells him.

“Roberto the elk, I like it,” Stiles says with a smile.

“I can help you clean him up a bit when we get home,” Derek says.

Patrick hugs Roberto tighter and nods.

Derek turns to the phone and sees the way Stiles is watching Patrick. He’s worried and sad and guilty. “Hey,” Derek says, pulling the phone closer. “None of that.”

“It’s not fair that I’m not even in the same state and you can still read my emotions,” Stiles says.

“You’re an open book,” Derek says fondly.

“I gotta get back to work,” Stiles says.

“I’m gonna take this one for ice cream,” Derek says. Patrick’s head pops up, and he beams at Derek.

“I wanna go for ice cream,” Stiles whines.

“When you come home,” Derek assures him. 

Derek buys Patrick a huge ice cream cone, and they eat it in the park. Patrick gets it all over his clothes and arms, and Derek lets him talk about what he learned about in history that day. He drops some ice cream on Roberto, which Derek cleans up with a napkin.

Patrick seems a lot happier than he has in days, and Derek tries not to feel like the worst dad on the planet.

*

The full moon is usually a happy, joyous occasion. The Pack comes over to Derek’s house and they throw a party with s’mores, running, games, and Pack. They’ve done this almost every full moon since Derek and Stiles finished the house.

The morning of the full moon, Derek texts the group and tells them to go to Scott’s or Isaac’s, and that they wouldn’t be there for the full moon tonight. 

Isaac tries to call him all day, and so does Allison, but Derek ignores them. The sheriff calls him, then Melissa texts him and asks him if he’s okay. He knows the sheriff made her do it, but he tells her he’s fine and so are the kids. 

The full moon is on a Saturday, for which he’s grateful, because he’s pretty sure otherwise he’d have to keep the kids out of school for two days. Some months they go to school, others they stay out. It depends on how the moon affects them that month. Some moons are easier than others. 

Derek growls most of the day. He’s more miserable than usual and doesn’t feel like talking or walking or even existing. He’s affecting the kids’ moods, too. They get into three fights before the sun sets. One results in torn clothes, a chunk missing from Patrick’s arm, and a nasty slice against Evie’s cheek. They’re laughing and playing a game ten minutes later.

He cleans the house from top to bottom, does all the laundry, and even mows the lawn. Then, he works out in the garage for awhile. The kids thankfully spend the day playing or watching movies, so he’s left alone in his thoughts.

He keeps thinking about how he’s alone. How Stiles isn’t here, is _so far away_. That he couldn’t protect him if something happened to him, and that thought is enough for him to wolf out and rip through one of Patrick’s t-shirts. 

The Alpha in him growls and whines, wanting his mate in the territory, under his protection. _Safe_. 

By the time the sun goes down, Derek feels like he’s ready to fall apart and rip something to pieces at the same time. 

“Why aren’t we going to the party?” Evie asks as they walk along the trails. It’s twilight, and a few stars twinkle in the sky. Derek can feel the moon rising, feel it deep in his bones. “I like the wolfie party.”

“We’ll go next month,” Derek says. “I don’t really feel like being around everyone.”

“Because you miss DD,” Patrick says. 

“Yes,” Derek answers truthfully. 

“It’s weird that he’s not here,” Evie says. 

“It’s okay,” Patrick says, and Derek can tell he’s trying to be cheerful for them both. “We will have fun being wolves tonight!”

“Wolfies!” Evie shouts and then turns her face to the sky and howls. In the distance, they hear the answering howl from one of the Pack members. Sounds like one of the cousins.

Derek shifts into a wolf, and it’s both easier and harder in this form. He’s able to focus on instinct and block out a lot of his thoughts, but the pain of Stiles not being there is so much more palpable as a wolf. He whines almost immediately when he transforms, and Evie and Patrick both wrap their arms around him and nuzzle into his fur.

They run around for a few hours, Derek chasing the kids as their laughter echoes through the trees. It helps alleviate some of the pain, but as soon as he stops, it’s back, aching and hollow. The kids are wolfed out, and he watches their gold eyes light up in the darkness. Derek helps Evie catch a rabbit, and she shares it with Derek while Patrick turns his nose up and runs off so he doesn’t have to watch. Derek licks the blood from her face, and she giggles while trying to push him away and yelling, “Stop, Daddy! That’s gross!”

When the moon is high up in the sky, Derek goes to the cliff overlooking a shallow valley so he can have a clearer view of the sky. He lifts his face and howls. It’s a sad, broken sound, unlike the way he usually sounds on the full moon. There are answering howls in the distance; he can make out Isaac and Scott specifically, and he huffs and drops down, resting his muzzle on his paws.

He listens to the kids running around behind him, growling and crashing through the leaves, and when he lifts his head to check on them, he sees that Evie has pulled off all her clothes and is running around, fangs bared and chasing squirrels. Patrick zooms by her, also naked. Derek drops his head back onto his paws. He just can’t be bothered to care.

After the kids tire, they come to sit with Derek. He notices they’re both fully clothed now, but still wolfed out. Evie straddles Derek’s back and starts braiding his fur, and Patrick pulls Derek’s cell phone from his pocket. 

“We should call DD,” Patrick says, but Derek nips gently at his wrist. “Why not?”

Derek drops his head on his paws and exhales loudly through his nose. Patrick glances at the phone and frowns. “DD’s called five times.”

Derek whines. He feels a pang of guilt, but he doesn’t want to change back into a human, doesn’t want to hear Stiles’ voice. Derek noses Patrick’s pocket, and he rolls his eyes but slips the phone into his pocket.

Derek howls at the moon again, and the kids join in this time. 

Evie crawls into the space where Derek’s curled himself around and snuggles up against his side. Derek drapes his tail around her torso. Patrick leans back against Derek’s other side and rests his head on Derek’s back.

He feels secure and warm between his children, a deep sense of satisfaction settling into his limbs. But no matter how happy being with his cubs makes him, there’s a huge emptiness where Stiles belongs that leaves him cold and wanting.

*

Stiles wants to punch Derek’s stupid furry face. He knows Derek spent the night pouting and howling forlornly at the moon. When he hadn’t been able to get in touch with Derek, he called Scott. Scott had told him about not going over to the house, about Derek cancelling it and the Pack gathering at Scott’s. He also said he could hear Derek howling sadly in the distance.

As if Stiles didn’t already feel shitty for missing the full moon.

But it’s 6:30 a.m., and Derek still isn’t answering his phone. He calls a few more times while he’s eating breakfast at the hotel buffet, and then again on his way into the field.

_Finally_ , Derek answers.

“Hey.”

“Don’t hey me,” Stiles snaps. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why didn’t you call? I left you like a bajillion messages, and Scott told me you were howling at the moon all sad and stuff.”

“Fucking Scott,” Derek mutters.

“Yeah, thanks to fucking Scott, I get a little bit of information and peace of mind since my fucking husband won’t answer his damn phone.”

“Did you want me to growl into the phone?” Derek asks. And, well, that sets Stiles off. He starts laughing, and then Derek laughs on the other end. By the time he’s done, he has to wipe his eyes, but he feels better than he has in awhile.

“You’re ridiculous,” Stiles says. “I missed you too last night.”

“First full moon we spent apart,” Derek says. 

Stiles frowns. “I know.”

“How are the kids?” 

“Sleeping,” Derek yawns. “We slept outside, but the full moon is always exhausting. When we get up, your dad and Melissa are taking us for pancakes.”

“Are you going back to sleep?” Stiles asks.

“Yep. You’re lucky you caught me. I was putting the kids to bed.”

“In their beds?” 

“What do you think?”

“Gonna sleep on the couch then?”

“I want my bed back,” Derek grumps. “I want to spread out and not worry about rolling onto Evie or Patrick. I want to roll over and scoot up behind you. Maybe rub my dick against your ass and come on your back.”

“Mmm,” Stiles hums. “I like the sound of that.”

“Or at least,” Derek continues, “I’d like to be able to stretch out on your side of the bed and jerk off.”

“Poor baby,” Stiles coos, then laughs. Derek yawns again. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t be sad,” Stiles says, his stomach twisting at the thought of Derek curled up as a wolf and sad. He hates the idea of Derek being sad. 

“Okay. Have a good day.”

“I’ll call you tonight,” Stiles says.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Stiles sits in his car at the research site. He pulls up a picture on his phone of Derek and the kids from a few months ago. They’re at the beach when the Pack had gone on vacation, and Derek walks hand in hand with Evie in the ocean while Patrick looks for seashells in the sand beside them. 

He thumbs to the next picture, which he’d taken on the same trip. They’d left the kids with his dad and Melissa, rented a boat, and spent a few hours alone on the water. They’d skinny dipped in the ocean and then made love right there in the floor of the boat. Stiles had taken this picture afterwards. Derek had on his post-sex content face, his hair damp and matted to his head, eyes squinting in the sun. Stiles had been straddling his lap and had snapped the picture while laughing as Derek had rubbed his bare thighs. 

God, he misses his family. He raises his head and looks out at the barren landscape before him. He used to love plants, but he is quickly starting to hate them. Or maybe that was the full moon talking. Stiles still isn’t convinced that he hasn’t started being affected by the moon. He and Allison have discussed it at length, and they have a working hypothesis about it and everything.

Stiles locks his phone, grabs his gear, and walks across the sand towards the waiting crew.

*

He’s sitting in his hotel room when he gets a phone call. The number is unfamiliar. “Hello?”

“Is this Stiles?” a female voice asks.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“My name is Greta. I’m part of Satomi’s Pack.”

“Oh, hi,” Stiles greets cheerfully. “Nice to meet you.”

“Satomi and Brett said that you are good with plants.”

“You could say that,” Stiles jokes. “What’s going on?”

“I have a three year old,” Greta explains. “She’s a wolf, but she has some sort of affliction.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods, still unsure how this relates to plants.

“It’s kinda like allergies, but much more severe,” she continues. “Satomi said there is a medicine I can give her, but it requires some very specific plants and mixtures. She said you could help me.”

Stiles drags his hand over his face. “I’m not at home right now,” he starts apologetically, “I’m on a research trip in Arizona.”

“Oh.” Stiles knows that sound in Greta’s voice. It’s the sound of a defeated parent who has no other options. Stiles can’t handle thinking about this poor mother and her kid. 

“Give me the list of ingredients,” Stiles says, reaching over to grab a pad of paper from the nightstand, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?” she asks, voice hopeful. 

“Yeah, of course.” Stiles writes down the plants she lists. Most are pretty easy to procure, two he’s never heard of, and one he will have to grow himself. “It might take awhile,” Stiles tells her as he looks back over the list. “I’m not home a lot these days because of my job, but I’ll try to work on it when I can.”

“Thank you so much, Stiles. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Yes, I do,” Stiles says with a smile. “I have two werecubs.”

He spends the rest of the night doing what research he can on the two plants he’s never heard of, but as always, the internet isn’t very helpful and all his books are at home. He makes notes about what he thinks might be helpful, and then does a search on how to get the other plants.

He falls asleep with his laptop open on his lap and the pen in his hand, but it’s the happiest he’s been in over a week.

*

He spends the next four days in the field, and when he gets on the plane to go home, he’s sunburned and exhausted, but he’s vibrating in his seat and can’t keep the grin off his face.

*

Derek’s waiting for him at baggage claim, Stiles’ bag already in hand. Stiles runs up to him and throws his arms around Derek, holding onto him too tightly. He’d be embarrassed if Derek wasn’t holding onto him just as tight. Derek’s body is warm, his arms strong and secure around him. Stiles feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he melts into Derek’s embrace. He rests his cheek against the soft leather of Derek’s jacket as Derek drags his nose and stubble against Stiles’ skin.

“I’m so glad I’m home,” Stiles says after a few moments. He’s composed himself enough that he can pull away, but he steps close enough to Derek as they walk that their bodies are touching. Derek wraps one arm around Stiles’ shoulders, his other hand dragging the suitcase behind him.

“Evie didn’t want to go to school today,” Derek explains as they walk to the car. “She’s mad at me because I get to see you before she does.”

“There’s enough of me to go around,” Stiles grins. He’s just so happy to be home, to look into Derek’s stupid beautiful face. Derek looks tired, but so much happier than when they’d Skyped a few days before.

Stiles drops into the front seat of the Camaro with a content sigh as Derek stows the suitcase in the trunk. He closes his eyes as he waits for Derek to get into the car. He reaches over and stills Derek’s hand before he turns the key in the ignition. Derek raises his eyebrows in question, and Stiles grins before leaning over the console and unbuttoning the fly on Derek’s wonderfully tight jeans.

“Fuck,” Derek breathes as he glances around to check that no one is watching. Stiles doesn’t care. Getting arrested for sucking his husband’s cock after being gone for two weeks would be totally worth it. 

Derek reaches down and slides the seat back a little as Stiles pulls his cock free. It’s still mostly soft, but Stiles knows that he can fix that in a few seconds. He takes Derek into his mouth and tongues at the wrinkled foreskin, taking it between his teeth and tugging gently. Derek grunts, his hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around Stiles’ neck, and Stiles moans at the feeling of Derek’s cock fattening in his mouth.

Derek grabs his hair and holds it just on this side of painful as Stiles sucks him off. Stiles has never been happier to be sucking dick, and he moans around it more than Derek’s moaning above him. “I think you’re enjoying this more than I am,” Derek chuckles. Stiles hums and sucks on the tip a little harder. Derek holds his head still and starts fucking up into his mouth, and _fuck yes._ Stiles is openly moaning and palming himself through his khakis as Derek fucks his mouth, the blunt, fat tip of his cock hitting the back of Stiles’ throat repeatedly. Stiles feels Derek’s cock starting to twitch on his tongue, and he knows Derek is close. After a few more thrusts, Derek grips Stiles’ hair even harder, and Stiles feels it all the way to his dick. The sharp ends of claws scratch against his scalp as Derek comes down his throat. Stiles tries to swallow it, but gets choked on some of it, so Derek loosens his grip. Stiles pulls off, come overflowing from his mouth and down his chin.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” Derek says, eyes bright red as he grips the back of Stiles’ head and smashes their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Derek licks some of the come out of Stiles’ mouth, then licks it up from Stiles’ chin and feeds it to him on his tongue. Stiles moans again as he licks into Derek’s mouth and tastes his come. Stiles is about to come just from the knowledge that Derek just face fucked him and he’s now kissing come out of Derek’s mouth while they’re in the airport parking deck. 

Derek goes down on Stiles then, and it takes about fifteen seconds before Stiles is coming. Derek keeps sucking on his dick while he’s coming down, getting every drop of come until he lets Stiles’ limp dick fall from his lips. He sits up, eyes still beautifully bright red, his mouth open, Stiles’ come on his tongue. “Fuck,” Stiles moans as he grabs Derek’s jacket and crushes their mouths together again. Derek pushes the come into Stiles’ mouth, and Stiles wishes he had Derek’s werewolf senses in that moment so he could know their combined taste.

The kiss turns slow then, a soft press of their tongues against each other as Stiles holds on to Derek’s jacket and Derek runs his hands over every piece of exposed skin he can. When Derek pulls away, his eyes are still red and he looks at Stiles like he can’t believe he’s real.

“Well,” Stiles says, rubbing his palms against Derek’s short beard, “That was not the homecoming I expected.”

Derek smirks and unfortunately pulls away to tuck himself back into his jeans. Stiles glances around, suddenly self-conscious, as he zips his khakis. He knows it’s too late, but he’s glad no one had walked up to the cars beside them; they’d have gotten an eyeful and he wouldn’t really like to spend the night in jail. He’d like to go home, see his kids, sleep in his own bed. But he just couldn’t help himself. He had needed Derek’s cock in his mouth right that instant.

“You started it,” Derek says. 

“I have needs, Derek,” Stiles says as Derek cranks the car and reverses out of the parking spot. “ _Needs_.”

“You’re gonna think _needs_ when I bend you over and fuck you,” Derek says.

“Please, right now. Stop the car, fuck me on the hood, please.” The corner of Derek’s mouth lifts and he raises an eyebrow as he throws an amused glance in Stiles’ direction.

When they get to the house, Derek knocks the suitcase out of Stiles’ hand and bends him over the hood of the Camaro. Derek yanks Stiles’ pants down to his thighs and fucks him right there, and Stiles comes all over the shiny black paint. Derek doesn’t seem too upset about it, but maybe that’s because Stiles pushes him over the hood and rims him until his legs start to give out.

*

“What’s this one, DD?” Patrick asks. He holds up one of the plants Stiles has spread on the work bench.

“Agapanthus,” Stiles replies absently. He’s working on the mixture for Greta. Evie’s in his lap, growling happily as she plays with her dolls on the table. He’d tried to get her to sit on the floor, but she has been glued to his side since he got home. He had just sighed and resigned himself to the fact that his 5 year old always wins, and made a box with sticks that the dolls had to stay in so he could use the rest of his work space.

He’d found a few recipes in some of his plant books that looked like they did what Greta was asking. He didn’t know werewolves could have allergies, so he’d never made any kind of medicinal treatment for them. He was afraid that if he made one slight error, he’d end up poisoning the kid.

“That’s Blue False Indigo,” Patrick states, pointing to another plant.

“What’s it used for?” Stiles asks as he flips through a huge tome in search of an entry he knew he’d seen in it before.

“Protection,” Patrick answers. “You’ve planted them around the house.”

Stiles nods. “Good.”

“I know plants, too, DD,” Evie says. She’s brushing her dolls hair and singing a song he doesn’t recognize.

“I know,” he says, distractedly kissing the top of her head as he reads an entry that’s worn with age and smeared in places. 

“That’s mugwort,” she giggles. “Mugwort! Mugwort!”

“Mugwort!” Patrick joins her. They keep chanting _Mugwort! Mugwort!_ over and over again.

“What are you three doing out here?” Derek asks as he enters the garage. 

“MUGWORT!” Patrick yells, giggling. Evie yells it a second later.

Stiles laughs as he looks up from his book. Derek’s looking at them like they’re insane. He walks over to Stiles’ other side and slides his hand in Stiles’ hair as he looks at the contents of the table. “What are you doing?”

“I’m cataloguing,” Patrick says proudly, his chest puffed out.

“I’m playing!” Evie says, swinging her doll towards Derek and almost smacking Stiles in the nose.

“Yes, I can see that,” Derek says in amusement. He presses close to Stiles, his hip against Stiles’ side. “What are you doing?”

“The thing for Satomi’s Pack I told you about,” Stiles replies absently. He flips through the book, looking for something he can’t find.

“Can you call it a night?” Derek asks. Stiles straightens and rubs his eyes, then looks at his phone. It was after eight; he didn’t realize he’d been out here that long.

“Yeah, sure. Just, let me put all this away.” Stiles sets Evie on the floor and points to Patrick. “Go take a shower, and I’ll put this stuff away.”

“Okay.” Patrick sets his materials on the bench and goes inside the house. Evie follows Stiles around like a shadow as he and Derek pack up the different herbs, roots, and seeds, Stiles making sure everything gets meticulously put away. 

Derek grabs Stiles’ hand and laces their fingers as they walk back into the house. Stiles smiles over at him, then kisses him. 

Stiles tucks Patrick in first. He perches on the edge of Patrick’s bed and places the elk beside him, trying to stop the tugging at his heart he feels when Patrick clutches it tightly. Patrick notices, and eyes him closely. “What was that for?” he asks.

“Ah, nothing,” Stiles says. “I’m just glad I get to tuck you in, that’s all.”

“Me, too,” Patrick smiles. 

“Are you gonna stay in your bed all night?” Stiles asks. Patrick nods, and Stiles brushes his dark hair off his forehead. “How’s school?” Patrick shrugs. “Are those boys still giving your trouble?”

“A little,” Patrick says. “They haven’t pushed me or taken Roberto, but they keep calling names.”

Stiles’ face draws in concern. “What are they calling you?” 

Patrick doesn’t look at him; he glances down at Roberto and tugs idly at one of his antlers. “They keep calling me freak. And they called me a monster.”

Stiles’ heart breaks on the spot. He wonders if Derek knows, or if Derek heard Patrick from down the hall where he’s in Evie’s room, attempting to get her to sleep in her own bed. Stiles cups Patrick’s face, so open and trusting and vulnerable, and wonders how the world can be so cruel. Patrick’s the sweetest kid he’s ever known; he can’t even kill a squirrel without crying. 

He wonders sometimes if it’s because Patrick is a werewolf, so that makes him frightening and different on a base level so the other kids avoid him. Or maybe if it’s because he has all of Derek’s adolescent awkwardness with the large ears and eyebrows, and all of his own gangliness, making him an easy target for bullies. When he looks into the pale green and gold eyes, almost exactly the same shade down to the flecks as Derek’s, he wonders how anyone could pick on Patrick. Stiles wishes he could protect both his kids from everything forever.

“DD?” Patrick’s voice pulls Stiles out of his headspace. He blinks and runs his hand over Patrick’s head, and Patrick nuzzles into his touch. 

“You’re not a monster,” Stiles says softly. “Nothing about you is wrong, or evil.”

“I know,” Patrick says.

“I want you to always remember that,” Stiles says. “I’ve had too many wonderful wolves in my life convince themselves they are monsters, your father included. And none of it is true.”

“They’re just jerks,” Patrick says, but Stiles can tell the words are more bravado than anything.

“Yeah, they are,” Stiles tells him. “And you’re awesome.” Patrick smiles, and Stiles feels his heart swell.

Derek’s on Evie’s bed, reading to her. She’s fighting sleep, forcing her eyes open every few seconds. She shoots up in bed when Stiles enters. “I waited for you, DD,” Evie says. “Get on the bed with me and Daddy.”

“I don’t think there’s room, pumpkin,” Stiles says as he eyes the tiny bed.

“Get in Daddy’s lap,” Evie says. 

“Will it hold?” Stiles asks Derek, and he nods. So, Stiles stretches out on top of Derek, his back resting on Derek’s chest. Derek has his arms on either side of Stiles, the book open in front of them. Evie’s growling beside them, eyes shining in contentment. 

Derek reads three pages before Evie is sound asleep. They quietly get out of the bed, leave the ladybug nightlight on, and close the door behind them. Stiles takes a quick shower while Derek checks his e-mail, and then they turn off the TV and lamps and lie facing each other in the dark.

“Second night sleeping alone,” Stiles grins. 

Derek leans forward and kisses Stiles. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself outside earlier.”

“I was,” Stiles admits. “Plus, I really want to figure this out for Greta. I’d hate to think that I had to wait on a potential treatment for one of the kids.”

“Thought you’d be tired of all the research by now.”

“This is different,” Stiles says. “This is the research I love.”

Derek’s brows knit in confusion. “You don’t love the research you do?”

Stiles bites his lower lip. “Not really. I mean, I like it, yes, but I love herbs and magical plants. The other stuff is not as exciting.”

Derek looks like he wants to say something, but changes his mind. “I have a big meeting soon,” he says.

“Really? I bet you hate that,” Stiles chuckles.

“It’s with a bunch of people, including the president of the company and other important people. They encourage us to bring our spouses.”

“Really?” Stiles grins. “I get to meet all your work people?”

Derek nods, smiling. “Yeah. There’s only one small problem.” Derek hesitates, and then says, “It’s the fourth.”

Stiles closes his eyes and rolls onto his back. “Shit.” Fuck his life. 

“You can’t get out of the research for a few days, can you?” Derek asks. He’s trying to play nonchalant, but Stiles can tell that it means a lot to him. Stiles feels like a complete asshole and a huge husband fail.

“No,” he says. “I am so sorry.”

He rolls back over, and when he sees Derek’s face, he feels even worse. He’s obviously trying to cover it up, but he’s disappointed.

“It’s no big deal,” Derek says, shrugging. The little ticks are all over Derek’s face – the way he’s holding his mouth, the position of his eyebrows, his eyes not quite looking at Stiles. He’s trying to play it off as nothing, and Stiles can tell it’s definitely not nothing. “I hate those meetings anyway. I may try to get out of it if I can. Don’t want to burden your dad and Melissa unless I have to.”

“You know Dad loves keeping them,” Stiles says. He reaches out and cups Derek’s face. He wants to tell him he’s sorry, wants to tell him he misses him so fucking much and hates this. He wants to say _fuck it_ and quit his job and never leave them again.

Instead, he kisses Derek softly and pulls him close so he can settle his head on Stiles’ chest. Stiles runs his hands through Derek’s hair until Derek’s breathing evens out, and then he stays up, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Derek sleeping as his thoughts whirl in his mind.

*

“You get to be Mrs. Butterton,” Evie says, handing Stiles a pink pony. Stiles doesn’t even want to ask where she comes up with these names. She gives Derek a teddy bear. Then, she hands him a handful of accessories. “You get to be Fefe,” she explains. “And these are for you and DD.”

Derek looks at the stuff in his hands. It’s all cheap, dollar store play jewelry painted silver with pink, blue, and purple rhinestones glued to it. Some of them have lights that flash. Derek takes a tiara, hits a small button, and smirks when it starts blinking red. He turns to Stiles and places it on the top of his head. 

“Now you’re such a pretty princess,” Derek says.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Stiles mutters as he reaches across and grabs a flashing necklace.

“You look pretty, DD,” Evie says, smiling widely at Stiles and his tiara. 

Stiles looks at Derek pointedly. “ _She_ thinks I’m pretty.” 

“Oh, I definitely think you’re pretty,” Derek says.

Stiles clasps the necklace around Derek’s neck. Red lights chase each other through large plastic hearts. “Like the bling.” Derek snaps a bracelet around Stiles’ wrist as Stiles tries to shove a plastic ring on Derek’s large fingers. He can only get it to the first knuckle.

By the time they’re finished, they’re giggling like idiots. Stiles has mismatched earrings clipped onto his ears, and Derek has three on one ear and one on the other. They both have multiple necklaces and bracelets, and Stiles clipped the rest of the earrings in Derek’s hair.

“I think they’re having too much fun,” Patrick says with a roll of his eyes. He’s wearing a cowboy hat, a cape, and his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajamas. They ignore him as Evie walks over with a small bag. 

“They like playing princess tea party with me!” Evie says. She’s dressed in a cheap costume dress that has a lot of ruffles and ribbons, and is wearing an old pair of heels that Cora gave her that swallow her feet. A tiara dons her head that matches Stiles’. 

“Close your eyes, Daddy,” she instructs. Derek eyes the eyeshadow in her hands warily. 

“I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he says. 

“But _Daddy_ ,” she starts condescendingly, “You can’t be the evil queen without makeup.”

Derek scoffs. “Why do I get to be the evil queen? Why isn’t DD the evil queen?”

“He’s the plant princess you’ve locked away in your tower,” she explains as she cakes eyeshadow on the applicator. 

“See? I’m the good guy,” Stiles says, sticking his tongue out. “You’re evil and kidnap me because you’re in love with me and can’t be without me.” Derek rolls his eyes.

“No, she wants your plants,” Evie says. 

“Oh,” Stiles says. “That’s not very fun.”

“They’re magical plants,” Evie adds, like that’s supposed to make it better. “Close your eyes, Daddy.”

Derek sighs but closes his eyes. Stiles laughs as Evie smears blue eyeshadow over Derek’s lids with no real finesse. In places it’s all the way up to his eyebrow, and also extends to his cheek. After Evie’s content with his eyes, she smears lipstick on him. “There, you’re beautiful.”

When she steps away, Stiles bursts out laughing. Derek looks ridiculous, and his mouth looks like a bad imitation of the Joker. “You next, DD.” Stiles glares at Derek when he laughs twice as hard at Stiles when Evie’s through with him. At least they both match and look ridiculous.

Derek digs out his phone and snaps a picture of Stiles. “Ooh, selfie,” Stiles says, leaning close to Derek. Derek grunts but flips the camera to take a picture.

“You suck at that, Dad,” Patrick says. He gets up and takes the phone from Derek and uses it with much more skill than Derek. “Ready?” Stiles rests against Derek’s chest and brings Derek’s arms up so the camera can get all their jewelry. After Patrick snaps the picture, he rolls his eyes as he hands the phone back to Derek. “You both are so weird.”

Stiles might take offense to that if he didn’t see Patrick grinning as he returns to Roberto and the army of action figures he brought to the tea party.

“That’s so going on Facebook,” Stiles says as he grabs Derek’s phone.

“No, they’re not,” Derek argues, snatching the phone back. 

“Uh, yes they are.” Stiles lunges for Derek, and Derek catches him by the waist, but the momentum pushes them back onto the floor. Stiles looks down at Derek’s ridiculous make-uped face and the flashing lights of his necklace and laughs again. Derek leans up and kisses him. Stiles forgets about the phone in favor of Derek’s mouth.

A tiny finger pokes Stiles in the cheek again and again. “Tea party time!” Evie says grumpily. Stiles and Derek turn to look at her where she’s sitting on the floor beside them, scowling. “Not kissy time. Tea party time.”

Stiles turns to Derek and pecks him on the mouth. “You heard the lady,” he says. Stiles sits close enough to Derek that their sides are touching from arm to knee. He eats pretend octopus and rabbit and strawberries while drinking magical tea. Derek the evil queen puts him in a tower, but Princess Evie of the Wolfies and Patrick the Wolf Man come and save him.

Halfway through, when Evie and Derek are shifted and pretending to fight over Stiles’ honor, he wonders how many tea parties they have left before Evie will rather talk on the phone instead of sit in the floor and play dress up, how much longer before she turns her attention to other boys and her dads stop being the center of her world. He wonders how many tea parties he’s missed while he’s been gone and if it’s worth missing even one day of watching Evie and Patrick grow up.

When Evie runs over to Patrick in triumph after defeating Derek, Derek reaches out and looks at Stiles with concern, brows raised in question. Stiles just plasters a smile on his face and focuses on the now. Because right now, they’re having an epic tea party.

*

“What do you want for dinner?” Stiles asks as he pushes Evie in the swing. They’re at the park, enjoying a beautiful day in the early autumn sunshine. Derek’s at home, finishing up a project for work that had gotten pushed aside while Stiles had been gone.

“Anything,” Evie says, dropping her head back, the swing tipping with her. When she swings back towards Stiles, he leans down and gives her a kiss. “Your cooking is way better than Daddy’s.”

“Really?” he asks. Derek’s cooking isn’t bad, though Stiles is better at it. That’s why they’d decided to let Stiles be in charge of meals.

“Yeah,” Patrick says from where he climbing up the slide. “Dad can’t cook.”

“What has he been cooking you?” Stiles asks.

Patrick slides down as Evie says, “Food.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says sardonically, “but I think I got that much on my own.”

“Lots of mac and cheese,” Patrick says. “Burgers. He burnt chicken a couple nights. We had pizza a couple of times, but Dad said we couldn’t eat out anymore because it wasn’t good for us. He heated up some vegetables from a can.”

Evie pulls a face. “The beans were gross. I like the beans when you make them.”

“Grandma Melissa brought over some food last week,” Patrick explains. “We ate it for like four days.”

“It was yummy!” Evie yells as she soars through the air. Stiles gets lost in his thoughts as Patrick climbs onto the swing and the kids start competing for who can swing the highest. Stiles nearly has a heart attack when Patrick leaps out of the swing at its highest apex, but he flies through the air and lands effortlessly on his feet. Fucking werewolves, Stiles thinks.

“Ready?” Patrick asks Evie once she’s off the swing, and Stiles glances at them curiously when Patrick yells, “ATTACK!” Both kids start running towards him, and he squeaks and turns around to run away. He glances over his shoulder and laughs as he watches the kids chasing him, but because he’s not looking, he trips over something and tumbles to the ground. The breath’s knocked out of him, and before he can recover, two solid bodies pile on top of him.

“I yield!” Stiles yells, laughing hysterically as four small hands start tickling him. “I yield!”

Evie sits up on his chest, eyes shining and fur sprouting on her cheeks. He can see small fangs protruding from her lip. When he looks at Patrick, he’s also half-changed. They’re alone on the playground, so Stiles isn’t too worried about it.

“Say that wolfies are the best!” Evie says.

“Wolfies _are_ the best,” Stiles laughs, grabbing her sides and tickling her. Patrick joins him. Their laughter is loud in the quiet afternoon, and he thinks there may be no other sound he loves more.

He drops to the ground afterwards, already feeling a bruise form from where he fell. The kids are running somewhere nearby, so he closes his eyes and enjoys the sun on his face. He doesn’t want to move when he hears his phone ringing, and groans as he pulls it out of his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Scott’s voice rings out. Stiles grins. “What are you doing?”

“Lying in the dirt at the playground,” he says. “I was chased down by two rabid wolves.”

“We’re not rabid!” Patrick yells. “We can’t get rabies. Mr. Deaton said so.”

Scott chuckles. “Sounds like you’re glad to be home.”

“You have no idea, man.” Stiles rubs his eyes and reluctantly sits up.

“Wanna come over for dinner tonight? I’ve barely seen you in the last few months.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles says as he watches Patrick chase Evie, but then get distracted by something and then trip over his untied shoelace. “Derek’s working, but I’ll tell him to come over when he’s through.”

The kids are overly excited to go to Scott’s, so the ride to the McCall house is loud. Stiles puts on one of his favorite CDs, and they sing along, though Evie keeps wanting to hear “the princess song.” He’s pretty sure he and Derek would have a breakdown if either of them heard that song again.

Patrick and Evie both give Scott and Allison huge hugs when they run into the house like wild animals. “Guys, you don’t just run into someone’s house!” Stiles admonishes as he closes the door behind him.

“You always just come into their house without knocking,” Patrick says from beside Scott.

“They’re not someone,” Evie says from where she’s holding onto Allison’s legs, bent back in half so her head is hanging upside down. “They’re Pack.”

“Still. It’s not like you were raised in a barn,” Stiles sighs. 

Stiles hugs Scott and Allison, then joins them on the back deck as the kids run around the woods, screaming and laughing. Derek shows up a few hours later, and Scott grills steaks and they eat outside. It feels good to be back with Pack, with family. It’s not just Derek and the kids he’s missed, but Scott, his dad, the whole Pack.

Stiles and Derek clean the kitchen, and afterwards, Derek goes onto the back porch with Allison while Stiles goes in search of Scott. He pauses on the bottom stair to the basement when he hears Patrick’s voice followed by Scott’s.

“It’s just his job,” Scott says. Stiles peeks around the edge and sees them side by side on the couch, backs towards him. He hopes they’re either not paying attention or the house is so saturated with the Pack’s smell that they won’t notice him there. 

“It’s stupid,” Patrick grumps petulantly. Scott rubs his hand over Patrick’s hair. “He loves plants more than us.”

Stiles feels like he’s going to vomit all over the floor. He can tell by the shift in Scott’s posture that Scott knows he’s there now, probably recognized Stiles’ sudden emotion.

“Listen to my heart,” Scott says. “Put your hand right here and listen to me. Your father doesn’t love anything in this world more than you, Evie, and your dad.”

“But he still goes away.”

“Hey, I’ve known your dad for a long time,” Scott starts. “Since we were around your age. He gets distracted sometimes – “

“All the time,” Patrick giggles.

“All the time,” Scott agrees with a chuckle. “Like you do. You know how you get distracted?” Patrick nods his head. “Well, DD gets distracted like ten thousand times more than that.”

“That must suck.”

Stiles chuckles despite himself.

“He gets distracted by work,” Scott explains gently. “It happened in high school, college, grad school – pretty much all the time. But that’s what makes your dad so smart and important. This is important stuff he’s doing. Plus, he doesn’t just know about normal plants, he knows all about magical plants.”

“I know!” Patrick replies excitedly. “He let me help him with the magical plants for Miss Satomi’s Pack. I got to catalog!”

“Wow, that’s an important job,” Scott says. 

Stiles starts to creep back up the stairs when he hears Patrick say, “Dad really misses him. He tries to hide it from us, but he’s not very good at hiding it.”

Stiles can’t listen anymore. When he emerges into the kitchen, he slips through the house, upstairs into Scott and Allison’s bedroom. He’s sitting between their bed and the wall, chin on his knees, when Scott finds him ten minutes later.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Scott says as he sits beside Stiles. “You shouldn’t be snooping.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” Stiles says, “I was looking for you.”

“Patrick wanted to talk to me because he said he couldn’t talk to Derek or your dad. He said it makes them too sad to talk about you.” 

Stiles hugs his legs tightly and stares at the edge of the comforter in front of him. “I can’t believe he’d think I love work more than him.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe he thinks I’d love _anything_ more than them. They’re my world.”

Scott doesn’t say anything right away. When he speaks, he scratches his arm lightly. “Do you remember when your dad started taking extra shifts after your mom died?” 

Stiles looks at Scott sharply, confused by the switch. “Yeah.”

“Do you remember what you thought?”

“That he didn’t love me anymore,” Stiles says, “and that he was going to leave me like my mom.”

“Patrick just doesn’t exactly understand what’s going on,” Scott says. “He’s a werecub whose dad is gone.”

“What should I do, Scott?” Stiles asks, dropping his head back against the wall. 

Scott shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve got to figure that out for yourself.”

“Everything feels like the wrong choice,” Stiles says. Scott reaches over and squeezes Stiles’ bicep. 

*

Stiles doesn’t understand how the weeks he spends at home fly by while the ones on the road drag. He’s on the plane again, this time flying to Colorado. Evie didn’t cry as much this morning, but she also refused to look at him and made sure that Derek braided her hair in full view of Stiles. Patrick just hugged him longer than normal, and Derek pretended like everything was fine.

The days pass excruciatingly slow. This trip is for two weeks, and on day three, Stiles feels like he’s crawling out of his skin. He’s been helping Patrick with his spelling over the phone, and Skyping with Evie, who finally is talking to him but still not a lot. He brought more clothes with him this time, one of Derek’s sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants, and it’s still not enough to keep him warm at night. He wakes up cold and shivering every few hours.

Stiles works out at the hotel gym, which he’s been doing lately to calm his mind. When he returns, he’s still buzzing, and he knows why. Derek’s meeting is the next day.

Stiles stares at the ceiling for a few hours before he makes up his mind.

*

Derek had forwarded him all the hotel information before he left so Stiles would know where he was in case of emergencies. His dad is keeping the kids for Derek since he’s expected to be at dinner and breakfast the next morning. Stiles finds Derek’s room easily enough and knocks on the door. He stands just off to the side so Derek can’t see him through the peephole. He wants to keep it a surprise.

Derek, being Derek, opens the door as far as the inside chain will allow. His face when he sees Stiles is priceless.

“Looking for a little fun, big boy?” Stiles says in best flirty voice. The door slams and Stiles hears the chain slide and then the door yanks back open. Derek scoops him into his arms and buries his face into his neck.

Stiles laughs, kisses Derek’s forehead and cheek. He doesn’t even care that two hotel guests walk by them and give them a dirty look. Derek’s trembling, and Stiles thinks, _Finally, I made the right choice._

Derek finally pulls back and eases Stiles back down to the floor. He bends down and picks up Stiles’ overnight bag, which he’d dropped. 

“How?” Derek asks, his face an adorable combination of confused and elated. 

Stiles shrugs. “Told them I had an emergency back home and that I’d be back tomorrow night.”

“Stiles,” Derek says, pulling him into a tight embrace again. Derek just holds him, and Stiles feels so happy to be back in his arms. “Thank you,” he hears Derek whisper so quietly he almost misses it.

*

Stiles wakes up, warm and content. He snuggles deeper into Derek’s arms. “Hey,” Derek says gently. “We gotta get ready.”

“Nope,” Stiles says, sliding his arms around Derek’s torso and clamping them tight. “I’m kidnapping you.”

Derek laughs, his fingers scratching lightly along Stiles’ back. Stiles cracks open and eye and looks at the clock beside the bed.

“Why did you let me sleep?” Stiles whines. He bites Derek’s chest in irritation. “We wasted all that time we could have been having sex or something.”

“Stiles,” Derek starts, “you basically passed out right after that handjob. You’d been here for ten minutes, and you were already asleep.” He chuckles and cups Stiles’ face gently. “Besides, I like watching you sleep.”

“Creeper.” Stiles hates to admit it, but his three hour nap was the best sleep he’s had since he left home. He knows it’ll be the best he’ll have for the next two weeks, too. He’d had plans to fuck Derek until they went to dinner, but they’d gotten naked, fallen onto the bed while kissing and giving each other uncoordinated handjobs, and then Stiles had been so happy, content, and warm, that he’d fallen asleep.

“Let’s call the kids,” Stiles says as he scoots up in the bed. “Skype with them and let them know I’m here.”

“They’ll be jealous,” Derek says as he grabs his phone. “I got to see you when they didn’t.”

“I’ll make it up to them,” Stiles says, laying his head on Derek’s shoulder. “Somehow.”

Derek texts the sheriff and tells him he wants to Skype with the kids for a few minutes before his meeting. When the sheriff texts that they’re ready, Stiles moves out of view while Derek calls. “Perhaps we should have put on clothes,” Stiles mutters as he looks down at Derek’s body that is only partially covered by the thin white sheet. Stiles isn’t particularly upset that it didn’t hide much.

“Daddy!” Stiles hears Evie’s voice ring out.

“Hey, Dad. How’s the hotel room? Does it have a minifridge?” Patrick asks.

Stiles laughs as Derek chuckles. “And a microwave.”

“Wow.”

“I got a surprise for you guys,” Derek says.

“We get a prise!” Evie claps. Stiles shifts around so he can move into the frame. It’s mostly their faces, but their bare shoulders are also visible. “DD!” Evie shouts happily.

“Hey DD!” Patrick yells. 

The sheriff’s head appears in the background behind the kids. “What are you doing there, kiddo?” he asks, looking pleased. “I thought you couldn’t get the time off.”

Stiles shrugs. “I took the time off.” He turns to Derek and kisses him. “My hubbie needed me. Who can blame him wanting to show me off to everyone?” Stiles grins as the kids laugh.

“Are you coming home with Daddy tomorrow?” Evie asks.

Stiles frowns. “No,pumpkin. I have to go back to work.”

“Oh.”

“I’m glad you’re with Dad,” Patrick says. “Dad really wanted you there.”

“I know,” Stiles says, squeezing Derek’s thigh.

The kids are reluctant to end the call, but Stiles promises to call them tomorrow. Stiles irons the wrinkles out of his suit, and then gets dressed. His breath catches in his throat when Derek steps out of the bathroom.

He’s wearing a black suit, a white shirt, and a black tie. He looks like he should be walking down the red carpet, not standing in a mid-grade hotel room about to go to a business dinner.

Derek closes the distance between them and taps Stiles’ mouth shut. “Be careful with that mouth open,” Derek says, voice low and sultry. “You never know what might get put in there.”

“Please,” Stiles says, nodding. He gives Derek another once over. “I forgot how good you looked in a suit.”

The tips of Derek’s ears turn pink. “You look great too,” he says, smoothing down the lapels on Stiles’ navy suit. “Almost makes me want to skip the meeting in favor of peeling it off of you.”

“Tonight,” Stiles says. “Deal?”

Derek kisses him. “Deal.”

*

The dinner isn’t as bad as he expected, especially since Derek seemed to hate everyone and every meeting. The people are pleasant enough, they like Derek, and think the kids are precious. There are at least two women and three guys in the company who want to sleep with Derek, and Stiles is jealous all of three seconds. Stiles circulates, trying to make the best impression for Derek. If there was a best spouse award at this thing, he wants to win it.

Stiles takes a break from socializing and goes to the bar to order a scotch. He’s taking his first sip when a warm, solid mass presses against his back. “Haven’t seen you around here before,” Derek whispers into his ear.

“Oh?” Stiles responds, turning his head slightly. “Just haven’t been looking hard enough, I guess.”

“I’ve got a bottle of scotch upstairs,” he says, and Stiles twists a bit so he can see Derek’s face. Derek’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes; Stiles always likes it when Derek gets playful like this.

“Is that supposed to impress me, big boy?” Stiles says as he adjusts Derek’s tie. 

“I’ve got something that’ll impress you,” Derek says and pushes his hips against Stiles’ side. Stiles can feel that his cock is already half-hard.

“You sure are a _cock_ -y one, aren’t you?” Stiles takes a sip of his scotch, and he can tell Derek is trying to hold character and not just groan and roll his eyes. 

“Why don’t you come and find out?” 

Stiles drains the rest of this glass and grins. “I think I like the sound of that.” Derek places his hand low on Stiles’ back and leads him towards the elevators. “Do you need to say goodbye to anyone?” Stiles asks as Derek starts kissing along his neck.

“Already did,” Derek mumbles against his skin.

Derek presses him against the elevator wall when the doors close, and Stiles can’t do much but moan and rub Derek’s arms through his suit. Derek’s knee is rubbing against his cock, and if the elevator doesn’t hurry up and get to their floor, some people might get a show.

When the doors open on their floor, Derek grabs Stiles’ hand and leads the way towards the hotel room. Inside the room, they go slow as they undress each other. There’s no need to rush, no kids, no work, nothing but the two of them for a few uninterrupted hours. Stiles’ head buzzes with the alcohol, and he feels like he’s floating as Derek lays him back on the bed and covers his skin with kisses.

“Have you been working out?” Derek asks as he drags his tongue along the swell in Stiles’ bicep.

“Yeah,” he responds, flexing his arm. It’s nowhere near as impressive as Derek’s, but Derek seems enraptured anyway. “I’ve had a lot of free time at the hotel.” Derek drags his teeth along the muscle, and Stiles nearly melts into the bed.

They make love slowly, and every touch of Derek’s fingers on his skin, every thrust inside makes Stiles feel like he’s falling to pieces. Derek slides his hands up Stiles’ arms and intertwines their fingers, and Stiles opens his eyes to find Derek staring down at him like he’s the only thing in the world. It fills him with so much emotion that he’s not sure he can keep it together, and he clings to Derek as he comes, nails scratching down his back as he sees white and nearly passes out. 

Derek holds him afterwards, and Stiles can’t stop himself from trembling. He’s not even sure why, it’s not like they didn’t just have sex the night before Stiles left for Colorado, but Stiles just feels overwhelmed by his feelings for Derek.

“You okay?” Derek whispers. The room is dark, the only sounds their breathing. Stiles pulls Derek’s arms around him more tightly. 

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” Stiles replies.

“Me, too.” Derek drops kisses along Stiles’ neck and shoulders, and he shivers at the drag of stubble across his skin. He glances down to their intertwined hands and rubs his thumb over their wedding bands. He falls asleep with his cold feet pressed between Derek’s calves.

Derek wakes up him early the next morning, and they kiss sleepily until Stiles rolls Derek onto his stomach and fucks him slowly, his arms wrapped around Derek’s chest as he mouths as his neck. Stiles falls back asleep inside Derek.

When Stiles leaves Derek in front of the hotel and gets into the cab, it might just be the hardest thing he’s ever done.

*

Stiles calls his dad later that night, after he knows Derek has already picked them up.

“Hey, kiddo,” he answers brightly. “How was Derek’s meeting?”

“It was fine,” Stiles says.

“I hear you made quite an impression on his colleagues,” his father says. “Derek was bragging about you. He looked happy when he picked the kids up. It’s a good thing that you did, being there for him.”

Stiles can’t do this anymore; he just breaks. “Dad, I don’t know what to do,” he sobs.

“Hey, hey,” the sheriff says. “Kiddo, what’s wrong? I thought you two had a great time.”

“We did,” Stiles says, wiping his eyes. “That’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

Stiles sighs. “Derek made love to me last night like he thought he was never going to see me again.”

“Whoa, Stiles, TMI.”

“Dad,” Stiles whines. “The thing was, I knew exactly how he felt. There’s like this disconnect between us. We talk every day, when I’m home we’ve still got an active sex life – “

“Stiles,” the sheriff sighs.

“It’s just…there’s something off.” They’re both quiet, and Stiles says, “It’s me, it’s this fucking job.” He rubs a hand over his hair. “What do I do, Dad?”

“Stiles, it’s not my place to get involved in your life, your marriage, your family. You’re an adult, and you’ve got to make these decisions for yourself,” the sheriff says. 

“That’s shit advice, Dad.” Stiles sighs, and then chews his lip as a thought crosses his mind. “If I ask you a question, will be honest with me?”

“Okay.”

“If you could do it over again, would you have worked as much? Especially when Mom was alive?”

Stiles hears the phone rustle on the other end. It takes the sheriff a while to answer, but then he says, “If I could do it over again, I wouldn’t waste one moment with your mother on anything.” Stiles nods and worries his lip; that was what he was hoping to hear.

*

Derek wants to be anywhere but in the grocery store right now. The kids are grouchy, he’s grouchy, and he just wants to be home so he can sit around in his basketball shorts and glare at the television. But first, he has to pick up some groceries.

Evie throws her tantrum while he’s in the middle of the canned vegetables. Her wails are at ear-piercing volume, and he tries everything to get her to calm down. “Evie, please,” Derek begs, “you’ve got to be quiet.” He glances helplessly at Patrick, who tries to touch her, but she scratches him across his face with her claws. The welts are shallow and start to heal before Derek can react.

“You do _not_ attack your brother,” Derek says, grabbing Evie gently by the wrists. She’s fully wolfed out, fur on the side of her face and forehead transformed. There’s an elderly lady a few feet in front of them who doesn’t seem to know they are there, and a family behind him that keeps giving him dirty looks.

Derek crowds in close to try to conceal her face. “You have got to calm down. Evangeline, you cannot wolf out in public,” he whispers against her hair.

She doesn’t care. She’s still wailing, and now she’s started growling, and it doesn’t seem to go unnoticed by the other family. Derek cradles her face to his chest and makes a beeline for the back of the store where the restrooms are.

Except, of course, this grocery store has them at the front of the store, so Derek stops the cart in the stationary section. He’s feeling desperate and at his wits end. He doesn’t even know why she’s crying, so how in the hell is he supposed to get her to stop? He glances around, and then blinks, eyes changing and teeth elongating. “Stop,” he growls, all of his Alpha power behind the word. 

Patrick’s eyes flash as he trembles against Derek’s side. Evie looks up, her eyes red and wet, her face scrunched like she’s about to start wailing again. He doesn’t waver, just has a werewolf stare off with a five year old in the middle of the supermarket. A typical day for Derek Stilinski-Hale, apparently.

When he thinks he’s out of the clear, he shifts back to normal and feels Patrick sag against his side. Evie’s face shifts back, too. He looks at her softly and sets his big hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, pumpkin?”

“I want to go home.” She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. At least she’s quiet, Derek thinks. He doesn’t even care what else he needs at the store; he just hopes his luck holds until he gets through the line and to the car.

When he gets behind the wheel in the parking lot, he grips the steering wheel and just sags in the seat. Evie’s sniffling in her car seat, and Patrick’s beside him playing with the radio. He takes a few deep breaths and backs out of the parking place. 

As he drives home, he has the terrifying revelation that he’s not sure he can keep doing this by himself for very much longer.

*

“You’re not the worst dad,” Isaac says. They’re sitting on the back porch of the McCall home, drinking beers after dinner. The kids are out in the woods somewhere, and Scott, Sarah, the sheriff, Melissa, and Allison are playing cards inside while Isaac’s two youngest play on the living room floor.

“Sure feels like it,” Derek says. “I’ve been so preoccupied lately. And now I’m going Alpha on my kids.”

“And being a complete dick,” Isaac adds. Derek glares, but Isaac is unaffected. “You have been a nightmare to be around since Stiles has been doing this research thing.”

“I’d like to see how happy you’d be if Sarah was gone for weeks at a time.”

“Oh, I’d be a complete moping dick, too,” Isaac says. “I’m not judging, just observing.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Evie has been throwing god awful tantrums, and trying to calm her down takes all my energy and focus. Patrick gets pushed to the wayside because of it sometimes.”

“I raised Millie,” Isaac says. “I know what that is like. At least you can Alpha her.”

Derek drops his head back against the back of the chair and closes his eyes. “What do I do, Isaac? I’m miserable, the kids are miserable. I don’t think I can do this for a year.”

“Have you thought about telling Stiles?” Isaac asks. Derek opens his eyes and looks at him like he’s insane. “What? You don’t think he’s got the right to know that you all are miserable and miss him?”

“I know he’s not happy about it, either,” Derek says. “But this is a great opportunity. I just can’t ruin it for him.”

Isaac sighs. “Then, I don’t know, Derek. You’ve got to find a way to make it work.”

“I’m trying. So far, I’m doing a lousy job at it.”

“It’s because you suck at everything,” Isaac teases. Derek punches him.

They continue talking until they hear howling and growling from the woods, then crying. They jump up from the chairs and rush towards the trees just as the door opens behind him. “What’s going on?” Sarah asks as Derek and Isaac crash into the underbrush.

“Millie!” Isaac yells.

“Patrick!” 

“Over here!” Millie calls out. Both men shift as they sprint towards her voice. All the cubs are gathered near a tree, half of them shifted. Millie, Emily, and Patrick are bent down beside Evie, who’s leg is bent at an awkward angle.

“Evie! What happened?” Derek asks as he drops to his knees beside her in the dirt.

“I was watching her, I swear,” Millie says frantically. “She was running and fell in a hole. We all heard it snap.”

“It hurts, Daddy,” Evie says, tears streaming down her face.

“I tried to take some of her pain,” Patrick says, the black still fading from his veins. Derek knows at his age, he can’t take enough for it to be effective. Derek covers Evie’s leg and removes some of the pain just as footsteps crash behind him.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asks.

“Is everyone okay?” Allison asks.

“Evie broke her leg,” Emily replies.

“Derek, is she okay?” Sarah asks.

“I’ve got to rebreak it. It’s started to set.”

“No!” Evie yells hysterically. “Please don’t break it, Daddy. It hurts so bad, please don’t make it hurt worse.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek says, taking her face in his hands. “Ssh, pumpkin, it’s okay.” Patrick and her cousins circle around her, touching her or crowding close to give her comfort. 

“You can hold my hand,” Allison says, squatting down beside her.

“I want DD,” Evie says. “Call DD, I want DD.” 

Derek shares a look with Allison. “Let’s get your leg fixed and then we’ll call DD, okay?”

“I WANT DD NOW!” she screams. “I WANT DD, I DON’T WANT AUNT ALLISON OR UNCLE ISAAC OR _YOU_. I WANT DD!”

Derek drops back on his butt and feels like he’s been kicked in the nuts. He just blinks at his daughter, because he has absolutely no clue what to do. He’s paralyzed, just sitting watching Evie cry out for her father who is hundreds of miles away.

“Hey, Evie,” Patrick says. He’s rubbing his hand across her neck and down her arm, and she immediately starts to calm. “DD can’t time travel right now, remember? He has to wait for the TARDIS planes. How long did it take him to get back from North Dakota?”

“A billion years,” she replies through a hiccup. “North Dodo is very far.”

“Where is he now?” Patrick asks.

“Cauliflower.”

“Right, in Colorado. So he has to wait to time travel.”

“But he always kisses my boo-boos,” she says, starting to cry again.

“Daddy can kiss it instead. DD can kiss it when he gets back,” Patrick says.

“Evie, sweetheart,” Sarah says from behind Millie, who has also started crying. “Your leg is gonna feel a lot better if you let your dad fix it for you. It may hurt at first, but then it’ll heal and be good as new. Can you be a big girl?”

Evie nods her head and sniffs. “DD says I’m a big girl.”

“You are a big girl,” Allison says. 

“Daddy, will you hold my hand?” Evie asks. Derek starts to shake his head, but Isaac drops to the ground beside him.

“I’ll do it,” Isaac says. “I’ve done it for Nick and Millie at least ten times. You hold her hand.”

Derek nods and switches places with Allison. He carefully moves Evie into his lap, and wraps his arms around her tightly. He takes one of her hands into his, and Patrick grabs the other. 

“On three,” Isaac says. Derek kisses the top of Evie’s hair as Isaac starts the countdown, and closes his eyes right before Isaac resnaps the bone. Evie screams in pain, and Derek can’t help the tear that rolls down his cheek. He feels someone rub his arm and someone else press against his back. He opens his eyes and looks over. Allison gives him a supportive smile as she rubs his arm, and Nick and Ryan presses closer into Derek. It helps take some of the ache away.

Evie is crying against his chest, but the bone has already started to heal.

“All right,” Sarah says, standing up and looking around at the cousins. “Back to the house. I think that’s enough excitement for one day.” As they all pass Derek and Evie, they drag they hands across their necks or arms.

When Derek thinks Evie’s leg is safe enough to move, he carefully stands. She wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face against his neck. Patrick leads the way through the woods, and Allison and Isaac press in close to either side. He doesn’t say anything when Allison hooks her arm through his and Isaac claps him on the shoulder.

He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have made it out of the woods if it hadn’t been for his Pack.

*

The sheriff had offered to come back to the house with Derek to help with Evie, but Derek just shook his head. He really wanted to be alone, and he didn’t think he could have handled the sheriff being supportive and fatherly. He was having enough trouble keeping it together as it was.

When they get home, Derek carries Evie upstairs. He carefully helps her get into her pajamas, and then tucks her tightly beneath her ladybug comforter. She glances over at the picture frame on her nightstand, the one Patrick had made her for her birthday.

“I miss DD,” she says, eyes watering again.

“I know, pumpkin,” Derek says, smoothing a hand against her hair. “I do, too.”

“I know you do,” she says. “Can we call him?”

Derek glances at the clock. Stiles is an hour ahead of them, and it’s already after 9. Plus, Derek’s not sure he can talk to Stiles right now without completely breaking down. The only thing holding him together is his sheer force of will and the little girl with the wibbling lip in front of him.

“It’s late where he is,” he says, stretching the truth just a bit. “He’s already asleep. Which is what you need to be. You have school in the morning.”

“I don’t want to go to school,” Evie frowns. “I want to talk to DD.”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Derek says, leaning close to her face. “If you go to sleep, I’ll let you stay home tomorrow. I want to make sure your leg is okay anyway. And we’ll call DD as soon as you get up.”

“Promise?” she asks. Her face is so open and vulnerable, and Derek can still smell the stink of her fear, pain, and sadness. He takes a few calming breaths and nods his head.

“I promise.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she says. 

He kisses her head. “I love you, too.”

“Read to me until I fall asleep?” she asks, and he can’t deny her anything, not when she’s like that. He unlaces his boots and leaves them by the foot of the bed as he fits himself on the bed and starts reading her a story. She’s exhausted, so she falls asleep within minutes.

Patrick’s sitting on the couch when Derek comes downstairs. He looks at Derek, his eyes shrewd and calculating like Stiles’, and Derek wonders how a seven year old can be that intuitive. But he leaves Patrick in the living room and walks into the dining room and sits down in the chair. He props his elbows on the table and drops his head in his hands.

He has no strength left. His strength has always come from his Pack, and now without them around, without Stiles, there’s nothing left for him to hold on to. His shoulders shake and he lets out a few, quiet sobs. 

He keeps thinking about the snap of Isaac rebreaking Evie’s leg, the pitch of her scream, the smell and taste of her pain and fear. He hadn’t been able to protect her from that, hadn’t been able to comfort her and give her what she needed. He had frozen solid on the spot while his Pack took care of his daughter when she was hurt.

He thinks about faceless little boys pushing Patrick around on the playground, stealing his elk and throwing it in the dirt like it didn’t matter. Pictures Patrick’s face as he picks the toy off the ground and brushes it off, pictures his face as he wolfs out on them, remembers what the terror of being unable to control himself as a kid felt like. He’d had Laura with him then, to give him strength and help him. He’d been too preoccupied with his own misery and Evie to even notice that his other child had been upset after being bullied. God, what was he doing? He was a horrible father.

He just doesn’t work without Stiles.

Derek jumps when he feels a hand on his arm. He glances over guiltily and finds Patrick standing beside him, eyes glowing gold.

“I’ve never seen you cry,” Patrick says. “I didn’t know Alphas cried.”

“Everyone cries,” Derek says, leaning back and letting Patrick climb onto his lap. 

“It doesn’t make you a baby or a sissy?” Patrick asks.

Derek shakes his head. “No. Never be ashamed to cry.”

Patrick nods and starts messing with the cuff of Derek’s shirt. “Are you crying because of Evie?”

Derek hums. “Partially.” He squeezes Patrick’s arm. “And because of what’s been happening to you.”

Patrick looks at him, determined look in his eye. “I don’t want you to cry over me.”

“DD and I have cried over you more times than you’ll ever realize,” Derek says, smoothing down a few obstinate strands of hair, “And we’ll do it a thousand more times before it’s over.”

Patrick frowns, his brows drawn together, and it’s like looking into a mirror. “It’s mostly because of DD, though, isn’t it?” Derek starts to protest, but Patrick glances back at Derek’s cuff and starts buttoning and unbuttoning it. “I know you try to hide it, but you’re not doing a very good job.”

“That obvious, huh?” Derek asks with a sigh.

“It kinda fills the house when he’s not here.”

That, well, that just makes Derek feel worse. It’s Derek’s fault. “I’m sorry,” Derek says. “No wonder you and your sister are miserable.”

“We’d miss him even if you didn’t,” Patrick says.

Derek studies Patrick closer, takes a good look at the little boy growing up so fast in front of his eyes. He’ll be eight in two months, and though he’s still a kid, Derek’s starting to see him maturing in ways Derek thinks he’s too young for. He’s not sure if that’s his fault or not, but he’s blaming himself anyway.

“You know,” Derek says, “what you did with your sister tonight. That was good.”

Patrick shrugs. “Didn’t do much.”

“You were the only one who could calm her,” Derek says. “That’s important. You and Evie remind me a lot of me and your Aunt Laura.”

Patrick turns to look at him, questions and surprise written all over his face. “You don’t talk about Aunt Laura much. Neither does Aunt Cora.”

“It’s hard,” Derek says, “I miss her every day. Every single day.”

Patrick’s face scrunches, and Derek knows he’s trying to turn it over in his mind. “I can’t imagine Evie not being here.”

“The older you get,” Derek says, “the closer you’ll get. Even before the fire, Laura and I were inseparable. We fought all the time, used to get into so much trouble for slicing each other up.” Patrick laughs like he can’t believe it, and Derek laughs with him. “After the fire, she was all I had. And then…” Derek’s face falls, and he feels the grief like it happened yesterday. Patrick nuzzles his nose against Derek’s cheek.

“I don’t like it when you’re sad.”

“I know,” Derek says. “I don’t like it either.” He kisses Patrick’s head. “I’m really proud of you, the way you were with your sister. You’re a great big brother. And one day, you’ll be a great Alpha.”

“You should tell DD,” Patrick says, “that you’re sad he’s gone.”

“Sometimes adults have responsibilities,” Derek explains. “They don’t want to do it, but they have to. After a year, DD will be back with us like normal. And he’ll be home in a little over a week.”

“He has like twenty more trips like this,” Patrick says. Derek sighs. He doesn’t need to say that he knows. “Maybe DD is as miserable as you are?”

“He’s working,” Derek says, “and busy with that. It keeps him happy.”

“I don’t think DD is very happy, either,” Patrick says.

“We’ll be okay, kiddo,” Derek says. “You, me, and your sister will support your dad and we’ll be okay.”

“I know we will,” Patrick says. 

Derek smiles. “Wanna go watch some TV?”

“Do I have to go to school tomorrow?” Patrick asks. Derek raises an eyebrow; he’d obviously been listening when Derek had talked to Evie. He tries to look innocent, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. 

“You can stay home, too.”

“Cool,” Patrick grins. “Can we watch one of the action movies DD hates?”

“Yep,” Derek says. Patrick hops off his lap and runs off into the living room. Derek looks at his phone and contemplates calling Stiles. He wants to hear his voice - _needs_ to hear it – but he can’t bring himself to do that to Stiles.

He pockets his phone and joins Patrick in the living room.

*

Stiles hasn’t been asleep long when his phone chirps. He grabs it, expecting a text from Derek, but is pleased to see Scott’s name instead. He yawns, glances at the clock – it’s just a little after eleven – and reads the text.

**You doing okay after tonight?**

Stiles’ face scrunches in confusion. His night had consisted of a sandwich from the Subway down the street, porn, two repeats of _NCIS_ , and then sleep. He checks his phone to make sure he didn’t miss a call from Derek, but there’s nothing since earlier that day. 

He sits up, rubs his eyes, and calls Scott.

“Hey,” Scott says. 

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Stiles asks. 

“Oh, um. Shit.” Stiles waits, and he can easily visualize Scott’s face as he gets frustrated. “Derek didn’t call you.”

“No, he didn’t,” Stiles says slowly. He’s somewhere between panicked and pissed off, and pissed off is winning. “What happened?”

“Um, it’s not really my place to get in between – “

“ _Scott!_ ”

“Evie broke her leg in the woods behind my house tonight,” Scott explains in a rush. Stiles feels all the blood drain from his face. “Allison was there, so I don’t know exactly what happened, but she said it was kinda stressful and she kept calling for you and Isaac had to rebreak it and apparently Derek kinda froze up or something.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure what to say. He suddenly feels betrayed, left out, and so very very alone.

“Stiles?”

“I,” Stiles starts, his voice breaking. “I’ll call you back. Right now I have to kill my husband.”

“Stiles, I shouldn’t – “

Scott doesn’t get to finish. Stiles ends the call and dials Derek’s cell. It goes to voicemail, which just infuriates Stiles, so he calls it again. Then, he texts Derek.

**Answer your phone, you fucking asshole.**

Stiles calls again, and this time, the call connects, but the line remains silent.

“You’re an asshole,” Stiles starts. He hears Derek sigh on the other end.

“Hold on,” Derek says. Stiles fumes as Derek does whatever he’s doing. “I’m outside. Patrick’s asleep on the couch. Now you can yell at me.”

“How can you be so glib?” Stiles yells, then realizes he’s in a hotel and should probably keep his voice down.

“What do you want me to say?” Derek sounds tired and defeated.

“Our daughter apparently broke her fucking leg at Scott’s tonight,” Stiles says, trying to keep his voice in check, “but you couldn’t be bothered to, I don’t know, _tell me about it?_ ”

“She’s fine,” Derek says. 

“After Isaac rebroke her leg and you had a meltdown?!”

“I didn’t have a meltdown.” 

“Semantics, whatever. _Why. Didn’t. You. Call. Me?_ ”

“Because I didn’t know what to say,” Derek replies. “And there was nothing you could do.”

Stiles feels like someone punched him in the gut. Because it’s the truth. He’s in the mountains collecting plants and analyzing fungi and spores while his kids are being bullied and breaking limbs. There’s nothing he can do from this hotel room.

“I don’t, that’s not – “ Derek cuts off with a growl. “That came out wrong.”

“Is she okay?” Stiles asks. He’s ignoring the huge glaring problem right now because he doesn’t feel like fighting. He’d definitely say a lot of things he doesn’t mean and would regret in the morning.

“She’s fine,” Derek says, “Now. It was kinda traumatic for her. Patrick was great with her, though. The only one who could calm her down.”

“Scott said she kept asking for me?” Stiles asks, voice unsteady.

Derek sighs again. “Yeah.”

Stiles rubs his eyes. “Fuck.”

“She wanted to call you,” Derek says. “But I – “

“Why didn’t you let her?” Stiles yells angrily. Derek doesn’t reply, so Stiles keeps prodding. “Why didn’t you let her call me, Derek? She broke her fucking leg and was crying out for _me_ , so why didn’t you call me, dammit?”

“Because I was barely holding it together, okay?” Derek growls. Stiles can tell his fangs have sprouted, and that just annoys him. “It was a hard night for everyone.”

“You should have called, I could have helped,” Stiles says petulantly.

“I just put her in bed and then watched a movie with Patrick.” 

Stiles isn’t stupid. He knows Derek better than he thinks Derek knows himself sometimes. He knows every annoying and irritating tick of Derek’s personality, so he knows when Derek’s keeping something from him. Unfortunately, he also knows when it’s futile to argue. He’s not getting anything out of Derek tonight.

“Fine.”

“You’re still pissed, aren’t you?” Derek asks.

“Damn right, I’m pissed,” Stiles says. “Look, I gotta get up early.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll call Evie tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Stiles hesitates, then says, “Bye” and hangs up.

He rolls over and stares at the wall and fumes. His phone chirps about fifteen minutes later with a text from Scott.

**Did I screw up? Are you okay?**

**You’re not the one who screwed up.**

**Derek’s not going to try and rip my head off, is he? That’d be an awkward fight.  
Are you okay?**

**No, not really.**

**Wanna talk?**

**Nah, we gotta get up early tomorrow.**

**I’m here, if you want to, you know.**

**I know. Thanks, bro.**

Stiles falls asleep a few hours later, obsessing over the fact that he hung up so angry he didn’t tell Derek he loved him. But he’s too pissed and stubborn to say it now.

*

They don’t really make up, not really. Stiles calls Evie the next morning and talks to her and Patrick for an hour about nothing. He texts Derek a few times through the day, but it’s stilted on both sides. When Derek calls him the day after, they sit on the phone not saying much until Stiles says goodbye.

Later that night, he calls Isaac. Isaac sounds surprised when he answers. “Stiles.”

“Hey,” Stiles says. “You got a minute?”

“Sure, just let me - _Whoa!_ ” Stiles hears a loud commotion on the other end, and then he hears a very perky, “Hey Stiles!”

He grins. “Hey Millie. What are you doing?”

“Homework,” she groans. “But guess what? There’s this boy in my class who…” Stiles spends the next fifteen minutes listening to preteen boy drama. He’s definitely not ready for Evie to be that old yet. Or, you know, ever.

When Isaac finally gets back on the phone, he sighs. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I needed to be caught up on all my 7th grade gossip,” Stiles laughs.

“She’s got a boyfriend now, Stiles,” Isaac says. “I’m not sure whether I want to hug her or go chase the boy into the woods.”

“I heard that, Dad!” Stiles hears Millie yell.

“I’m going into the attic,” Isaac says. “Because maybe _then I’ll have some privacy!_ ” Stiles has to stifle his laugh. The Lahey house was always like that. Loud, rambunctious, and full of light bickering. Stiles might be worried if he didn’t know that Isaac was the happiest he’s ever been.

“Now, maybe I can have five minutes alone,” Isaac says. “What’s up?”

“Look, I called you because I knew you’d be honest with me. No one else would tell me the truth if I asked,” Stiles says. “How is my family doing while I’m away?”

“You really want Derek to rip my head off, don’t you?” Isaac replies. 

“Please Isaac,” Stiles says. 

“Fine. But fucking hell, Stiles, you two need to work on your communication skills. And by communication, I mean talking, not fucking.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. More talking, less butt sex. Come on, get on with it.”

“They’re miserable,” Isaac says. Even though Stiles had been bracing himself for it, it isn’t any easier to hear. “Evie’s driving Derek batshit crazy, and Derek either mopes around like someone kicked a puppy or snaps at anyone who looks at him.”

“Do you think it’s temporary?” Stiles asks.

“Maybe,” Isaac responds, “But honestly? I don’t think so.”

“Thanks for being honest,” Stiles says.

“Just don’t tell Derek. Last time we got into a fight over something, he blamed me for that punctured lung for like six months. Fucking baby.”

*

Stiles is sprawled on the bed in his underwear, watching a show on Discovery about angler fishing when his phone rings. He glances at his cell on the nightstand and sees that it’s Derek. 

“What happened?” Stiles asks, not bothering to mute the television.

“Nothing,” Derek says. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Stiles asks.

“Fight with you,” Derek says. “I’m sorry for not calling you. I fucked up.”

“It’s okay.” Stiles throws his arm over his face. 

“No, it’s not,” Derek states. 

“Derek,” Stiles starts, “I know it’s not easy taking care of the kids by yourself. And watching Evie go through that, listening to it, I know it must have been hard for you.” He’s thought about it for the last few days, going from fury to misery. He knows how Derek is with the kids, and can even begin to fathom what it must have been like for Derek to hear Evie crying out for Stiles, and then to sense everything while Isaac rebroke her leg. Above all, he knows one thing about Derek: Stiles is the only one who can calm him when something happens to the kids. He’s surprised the house is still standing.

“I don’t want to fight,” Derek says. “It sucks enough that you’re not here. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Stiles stares at the ceiling. “Yeah, I agree.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He ends the call and tosses the phone on the bed. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get to sleep tonight, because he’s got a big day tomorrow. That phone call just erased any lasting doubt he’d had.

*

Stiles pulls the rental car to a stop in front of the house. His heart is beating so hard in his chest that he’s surprised Derek isn’t already in the yard. He hadn’t wanted to tell Derek, had wanted to make this trip himself. 

He takes a deep breath, steps out of the car, and makes his way across the front yard. He barely makes it halfway before Derek nearly rips the door off its hinges when he wrenches it open.

“What’s wrong?” Derek says, panic written all over his face.

“I, uh, I have no job now,” Stiles says, scratching the back of his head as he approaches the porch.

“What?” Derek stares at him, dumbfounded. That is clearly not what he was expecting.

“Yeah, apparently I broke my contract and will never work for the Department of Agriculture again and,” Stiles scrunches his face as he thinks about what the head of the project had said, “oh yeah, and ruined my career.”

“You quit?” Derek steps out onto the porch. Stiles thinks he may be in shock.

“Yep,” Stiles nods as he walks up the steps. He stops right in front of Derek. “I quit.”

Derek shakes his head. “But why? You love that job.” Stiles bites down his grin at Derek’s expression. It looks like his eyebrows are going to fold in on themselves.

“Correction,” Stiles says. “I love plants. And I love my family more than anything else.”

Derek pulls Stiles into a crushing hug. Stiles clings back to Derek just as tightly. “I couldn’t do it anymore,” Stiles whispers. “It wasn’t worth it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Derek says. “I didn’t want you to quit.”

“I know,” Stiles says, pulling back so he can look at Derek. He cups Derek’s face in his hand, rubbing his palm against the stubble. The thought that he never has to leave Derek for long periods of time is the best feeling in the world. “That’s what makes you the best husband in the world. But you shouldn’t have lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie.”

Stiles looks at him dubiously. “You withheld important information from me. And you made the kids lie about how they felt, too.”

“It’s not like Evie lied much,” Derek says.

“True,” Stiles chuckles. “This will be a longer conversation later. But right now, I just want to curl up in our bed and hold you.”

Derek smiles. “I think we can arrange that.” He grabs Stiles’ hand and leads them up the stairs. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks. “I could have picked you up at the airport.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Stiles says. “And I knew you would try to convince me everything was okay and that I should keep working.” Derek glances back at Stiles guiltily.

They stand in the middle of the bedroom, kissing each other slowly. There’s no heat behind it, no lust, just unsaid words as they try to communicate the last few months’ frustration and longing. Derek strips down to his underwear before he crawls into bed, so Stiles does the same. He knows Derek needs to feel them, skin to skin, needs that contact. As he curls behind Derek and wraps his arms around his body, he wonders how he didn’t see this earlier. Derek’s obvious sadness, the moping Isaac mentioned. It’s everywhere on him – in the downturn of his mouth, the look in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. 

Maybe, Stiles thinks, he hadn’t wanted to see it.

But he’s there now, with Derek in his arms. Derek twines their fingers and places Stiles’ hand over his heart. Stiles kisses his shoulder then rubs his cheek against it.

“I know some people are okay with traveling a lot,” Stiles says finally. “They love their job and can be gone for days or weeks at a time. I just…couldn’t. I don’t know why I did it at all; we don’t need the money.”

“Because you like research,” Derek says, “it excites you. You love plants. It makes you happy.”

“I started to hate it,” Stiles admits. “I decided that I love magical plants more than anything. I want to work with more medicinal herbs, like with what I did for Greta. I want to be there if any Pack needs anything from me. That’s what I love. That’s what I should be obsessing about. That’s what you should be dragging me away from when you’re forcing me to go to bed.”

Derek chuckles. Then he squeezes Stiles’ hand. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Stiles says. “I could work at Starbucks and be happy as long as I’m with you and the kids.” 

“I,” Derek starts, then clams up.

“Hey.” Stiles pushes up to look at Derek over his shoulder. Derek turns his head to meet his eyes. Stiles’ breath catches with how beautiful Derek is, lying in his arms, looking raw and emotional in the dim autumn light. “Talk to me. Use your words.”

Derek frowns. “I want you to follow your dreams and all that stuff,” he starts, “but I…I just don’t work without you. None of it. The kids, being a father, just _existing_. None of it works without you anymore. And honestly? It scares the hell out of me.”

Stiles drags his fingers across Derek’s smooth forehead. “Why? I feel the same way.”

“Because there are so many things that could take you away from me,” Derek says, and Stiles can see that flicker of panic growing in his eyes. “Sickness, freak accident, rival Pack… _fire_.”

“Nope,” Stiles shakes his head. “None of that.” He leans in to drag his lips against Derek’s cheek and nose. “None of that. I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”

“I just kept thinking about your dad,” Derek says. 

“I think about that a lot, too,” Stiles says. “I’m glad he has Melissa now, but I know he still misses Mom every day, even over twenty years later.” Stiles kisses Derek gently. “But we’ll have a different ending. And, we’ve talked about this Derek, _if_ something happens to one of us, we will keep going, raise the kids, rely on Pack.”

“I’m glad you married me,” Derek says.

The comment surprises Stiles, and he laughs. “Me, too.”

Stiles settles back behind Derek, and Derek says, “The kids are gonna flip. Evie isn’t gonna know what to do.”

“Is it just because their werewolves?” Stiles idly wonders out loud. “If they were human, would they deal with it better?”

Derek shakes his head. “Probably not. It’s because you’re their dad. They need you everyday for things, just like they need me.”

“Like to cook dinner that won’t burn,” Stiles teases, pinching Derek’s chest. 

Derek chuckles. “Yes, and to braid Evie’s hair – “

“You do a good job with it – “

“And help Patrick with his spelling – “

“They need you just as much,” Stiles says, because he’s not sure Derek gets that completely. “You’ve been their rock while I’ve been away. That’s important.”

“It works better with both of us,” Derek says.

“That’s why we’re raising them together.” Stiles kisses the back of Derek’s neck and tightens his embrace. There’s no place in the world he’d rather be than in this bed with Derek in his arms.

*

Stiles holds Evie on his hip as he tries to get the damn lock to turn in the door. Finally, it unlocks and he steps inside.

Patrick flips on the lights and yells, “Ta-da!”

“What do you think?” Stiles asks Evie as he looks around. The space is large, with shelves on the far wall and high ceilings. There’s a door leading to a back work room where there’s a set of stairs that leads to a basement.

“It’s dusty.” She wrinkles her nose and then presses her face to his shirt.

“It’s cool, DD,” Patrick says as he runs around the room. Stiles sets Evie on the floor and she joins her brother.

Derek comes up and drapes an arm around Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles immediately lifts his hand and laces their fingers. “I can’t believe we actually did this,” Stiles says as he looks around.

“You did this,” Derek says proudly, and then kisses Stiles’ temple.

The retail space is on a side street in downtown Beacon Hills, a few streets from the sheriff’s station and a short walk to Stiles’ favorite Chinese place. The building is old, from the 1920s, but he feels that was fitting. He’d actually been surprised they’d been able to find the perfect space in only a few weeks, and when Derek offered a ridiculous down payment, Stiles knew the building was his.

He knew they technically didn’t need Stiles to get another job, just like Stiles didn’t have to have his job with the Department of Agriculture. But Stiles loved plants, research, and working. He knows he would never do well just sitting around, so during those last few days alone in the hotel room, he came up with the perfect plan, and here he was.

“I can’t believe I’m opening my own shop,” Stiles says in awe. “My own magical plant shop.”

“Well,” Derek says, “an herbal, holistic medicine shop with a secret magical plant shop in the basement.”

“I should send Greta a gift basket,” he says as they walk across the room towards the back work room. “She’s the one who gave me the idea.”

“I think supplying her with her daughter’s medicine is plenty thanks enough.”

When they find the kids down in the basement, Patrick’s picking up bugs from the floor and Evie’s dancing around one of the supporting poles. She runs over to him and grabs his legs. “Still here,” she says.

“Still here,” Stiles says, running his hand over her hair. “Not going anywhere.” He glances around. “So, what do you think of my new shop?”

“I like that you’re here,” Evie says.

“It’s cool,” Patrick says. “Can I help you with your plants?”

“Of course,” Stiles says, stooping down to look at the roly poly Patrick has started playing with. He hooks an arm around Patrick’s neck, pulls him close, and gives him a kiss. “I’ll teach you everything about magical plants you want.”

“Cool.” He grins widely, and when Stiles looks up and finds Derek swinging Evie around in a circle, he wonders how this had ever been a choice at all. When it came to his family, there was no choice.

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> The next installment of domestic was supposed to be the one where Derek gets pregnant with Gil, but I wanted Stiles to have a magical plant shop, and thought "instead of just changing jobs, why don't I write why he changes jobs!" It was supposed to be like 10k. We see how that turned out :P Apparently, I needed to write 30k of domestic fluff and some angst. :D
> 
> [tumblr, if you'd like to say hello!](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com)


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